


make sense of all my broken parts

by MarkedMage



Series: Seasons [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bloodbending (Avatar), Character Study, Eventual Smut, F/M, Healing, Katara (Avatar)-centric, Katara and Zuko learning to heal, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, slight taang, this totally got away from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 57,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24731236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkedMage/pseuds/MarkedMage
Summary: “Breathe, Katara, breathe,” he says. “You’re okay, I got you. That’s my girl.” His words strike her to her core, and her heart flutters- as always, for him. She is his, and maybe she always has been. She may be a waterbender from the South Pole, sister to the Southern Water Tribe’s greatest strategic genius and best friend to the Avatar, but the Firelord of the Fire Nation is the only person who has seen inside her soul and held her heart in his hands. In the beginning, they were enemies, pitted against each other in order to save the world. They fought, mended hearts at Ba Sing Se, and found betrayal under the moon. They reunited, fought again, and helped the Avatar save the world. Somewhere, along the way, Katara unwittingly allowed Zuko into her soul, taking up residence and finding peace within all her broken pieces. Somewhere, along the way, she gave him her heart, and she knows she can never, will never, want it back.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Series: Seasons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817968
Comments: 162
Kudos: 648





	1. and we can't go back to who we were

**Author's Note:**

> ALRIGHT! Wolf is back, with another Zutara fic (I TOLD you guys I wouldn't be able to control myself). A few things:  
> \- This fic was originally meant for Zutara Week 2020, but I got the dates mixed up, and decided I couldn't wait an extra month to post this. I will still be writing for Zutara Week, but this fic had to be posted  
> \- Chapter One takes place in the few weeks following Sozin's comet, and follows Katara as she struggles to find her place after the war. Each chapter represents each season following the comet: Autumn, Winter, Spring, Summer. Four chapters in total  
> \- This is a DARK fic. I wasn't originally planning it to be so dark, but post-war trauma is real and needs to be discussed  
> -This is basically a character study of Katara. I wanted to talk about the characters and how they internalized the tribulations the war placed on them, and I think Katara is the most interesting individual for this. Out of all the characters, I feel like she'd struggle a lot with the trauma, compared to Aang or Sokka, and I wanted to focus on that. We always talk about the glory of war, but we don't talk about the aftermath. This is me fixing that.  
> -This fic is rated M. There is cursing, and there will be eventual smut. Under-aged readers, please turn back now.  
> -Characters are aged up: Zuko, Sokka, and Suki are all 18, Katara is 17, Toph is 14, and Aang is 13. I just feel like this show's ideas are meant for slightly older characters, with more mature themes, and it just made sense to age them up???  
> -ALSO, some major changes from the series: Katara has killed. I decided that this would fit better, and it also makes sense that she'd have to kill in order to keep Aang safe. I understand that ATLA is a kids show, but this is my take on how it would have gone, and I think Katara (and some others) would have had to kill.  
> -AND, I've made it so Ursa is dead in this fic. I'd like to write a fic with her being alive, but this story is a monster as it is, and I don't have time nor the organization to try and fit her into the storyline and have it be cohesive. So, unfortunately, Ursa is not with us in this story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Think of it this way," Zuko says. "The whole idea of war is to identify the enemy, hit them hard, and keep going. We may have ended one, but we have a new one to face. We just have to fight it a different way."

_~ Wretched blood runs through my veins ~_

_Don’t stop_ | _innerparty system_

~0~

Life after the war is a strange dichotomy between the calming lull of peace and the call of battle singing in your veins. Katara is at war with herself; she may be sitting in the fire palace throne room, going over peace treaties with King Kuei, Zuko, and other noble dignitaries, but a part of her yearns for the heat of battle. In the silence of the throne room, Katara can feel the pent up energy in her body, her hands desperate to bend the water in her pouch, the sweat on Commander Jee’s lip, the moisture in the air, the blood singing in the generals surrounding her. Just to feel _something._ For most of the world, the war ended. Yet somehow, Katara is still caught in the limbo between peace and blood, and she doesn’t know how to get out of it. 

Zuko looks strained. Even though he’s sitting far above her on the throne, with brilliant flames surrounding him, she can see the tension in his temples, the tapping of his fingers against his thigh, the sweat shining on his cheeks. Katara feels the energy in her swell once more, and just to appease it, she subtly bends the sweat from Zuko’s face. He doesn’t acknowledge her, but she can see his eyes flick to her, the softening in his gaze sending her his thanks across the room.

The generals are droning on about peace summits here and withdrawing troops there, and all this _waiting_ has Katara suffering. Across the table, Sokka looks just as bored, and his eyes flick to hers. He grimaces at her and drags a finger over his throat, and Katara sends him a pained smile. If only he knew of the blood boiling under her skin, the call for ice and water, the silence of death and debris singing in her soul. If only he could see the turmoil stirring in her heart.

But Sokka has never been one to pick up on the art of subtly and human nature, and neither is the girl sitting next to him, idly raising little mountains in the stone table before her. Her milky green eyes are closed in boredom, and she yawns. Loudly. The generals around the table pause, eyes falling on the slight earthbender who could level this building with a flick of her hand. In the short weeks following the end of the war, everyone has learned that when Toph has something to say, you better stop and listen if you want to keep your head on your shoulders.

“I think,” Toph drawls, stretching and putting her feet on the table. Katara sees Minister Kim’s eyebrow twitch, but the seedy old man keeps his mouth shut. The last time someone told her to take her feet off the table that soldier had nearly lost an eye. “We should all break for lunch. I’m about to lose my mind, Snoozles’ has been gone for some time now, if there even was one to begin with, Twinkletoes over here is gonna lose his hand if he keeps sending air gusts towards my face, and Sugar Queen is three seconds away from dousing everyone in a rainstorm. Time. To. Quit.”

If they had been at Ember Island, days before the comet, when Toph gave this little outburst, Zuko might’ve smashed his face into his palm repeatedly. Yet, they are in the Fire Nation capital, weeks after Sozin's Comet, and he needs to save face, being the Fire Lord. Still, even from here, Katara can see the steam rising from his nostrils, the clenching of his fists, and the deep, deep sigh he takes. 

Sokka has the decency to look affronted, and Aang looks at Toph sheepishly. But Katara can hear the blood rushing in her ears, the twitch in her fingers, calling for water and war. Damn Toph and her ability to see right through her- those feet of hers can pierce right into Katara’s wartorn heart and stir the storm waves gathered there. Katara closes her eyes and forces herself to breath, calming her mind on the ebb and flow of her own blood rushing through her veins. 

The generals turn to Zuko. Toph may be mouthy and her words might ring some semblance of the truth, but Zuko is the omnipotent one in the throne room. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “Minister Cho,” he calls out, and a portly man with ruddy cheeks stands. “Please have a draft of the trade agreements with Ba Sing Se prepared for me later, and have the map makers draw up where the colonies lie in the Earth Kingdom. We can discuss these at the next meeting.”

Minister Cho bows low, and Zuko adjourns the meeting. Katara lets out a deep sigh and feels her blood settle as the older generation departs, leaving herself, Zuko, Sokka and Aang, and Toph in the throne room. The flames die down, and Katara watches Zuko glide down the stairs and make his way over to where the group sits.

"Well, that was easy," Toph says, leaning over and smacking the back of Sokka's head, which makes him squawk and scramble away from her. "Sparky, I really think you gotta lighten up these peace summits, maybe with a little bit of-"

"Toph," Zuko says, clenching his teeth as he grounds out her name. "Just because you're my friend does not give you the right to just end a very important-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Toph interrupts, and the tick in Zuko's forehead gets larger, his face redder. "You know, Sparky, just 'cuz you're the Fire Lord does not mean you have to sit here and rot the rest of your life. I could tell you wanted out," she says, pointing at her feet. "These toes don't lie."

"Alright," Katara says, interrupting them before Zuko pops a vein. "Why don't we all just take a break. Toph, why don't you take Sokka and Aang down to the kitchens, I hear they made watermelon ice cream the other day."

 _That_ gets Aang's attention, and he stops making wind gusts towards Sokka's feet and perks up, flying over towards Toph. "Ooh," he says, grabbing her hands and jumping up and down. "Come on Toph," he begs, and Sokka joins in, hands clasped together in front of him, eyes wide. "Come on, come on, _come on."_

Toph sighs and pushes to her feet. "Fine," she says. Her sightless eyes bore into Katara's, and the waterbender knows that she understands when she's causing too much trouble. "Come one Twinkletoes, carry me down to the kitchens."

Aang protests, but one kick from Toph has him summoning an air scooter. Toph gasps, but begins to laugh as Aang whisks her down to the door. Sokka grumbles, "Hey, wait for me," and takes off after them, and soon it's just Katara and Zuko in an empty throne room.

It's quiet for a long moment, and Katara ignores the echoes of war thrumming in her ears. Quiet like this always brings back the memories of the war, and sometimes she wishes she'd come out of it unscathed, like Sokka, like Toph, even like Aang.

"Thank you," Zuko rasps, and she blinks, turning to look at him. Now that the generals have left, his shoulders are lower, and he looks more like the young man she knows him to be, not the warrior-king the Fire Nations expects from him. But the topknot in his hair is too strict, the shoulder points on his robe too old, the royal crown in his hair too formal. He is Zuko, yet not Zuko, all at once. 

"For keeping me from becoming a teenager-killer," he says, a wry grin touching his lips. "As much as I love Toph, that grating sense of humor of hers had me at my wit's end. I don't know how you put up with her before."

Katara laughs, and the echoes fade. "I'm not sure either," she says. "I think it was sheer will and late nights complaining to Appa that got me through, but honestly? She got on my nerves just as much as she gets on yours."

Zuko chuckles. "Still, she was right," he says. He sends her a look from the corner of his eyes. "I was ready to lose my mind until she cut in."

Katara rolls her eyes. "We all were. My only form of entertainment was watching Sokka keep his melting brain from coming out through his ears."

Zuko winces. "That bad, huh?"

The look Katara sends him is drier than the Si Wong Desert. "Zuko," she says. "I don't know how to tell you this any other way. It was horrible."

He laughs. "No," she says. "It was terrible! Your generals have no idea of the reparations the entire world needs, no sense of what needs to be restored. One hundred pounds of gold to every town scattered throughout the Earth Kingdom is not going to cut it!"

Zuko sighs, and plops down on the nearest chair, running his hands through his hair. His topknot immediately comes undone, and Katara has the sudden urge to take his crown off, bare the boy she knows best. So she does, and the look he sends her is nothing short of relief.

"I know," he says, sighing softly, and Katara reaches out a hand, running her fingers through his hair and massaging his temples. "I've tried telling the ministers that the world needs more, but fuck, Katara, they won't seem to hear reason. You'd think that they were the Firelord with the way they act sometimes."

Katara frowns, detangling a snare close to his ear. "Do you mind if I look at the papers?" she asks, and Zuko looks up at her, eyes wide. "Maybe I can come up with a solution."

Zuko panics in that endearingly cute way of his, the flustered look in his eyes that makes her heart warm. "No!" He says quickly, sharply, but then his shoulders sag. "No, Katara, really, you don't have to."

Katara smiles, and gently wacks his shoulder. "I want to," she says. "Come on, Zuko, we're friends, aren't we? Let me help- I want to help."

That makes a difference, and his eyes take on the molten-honey soft look he gets when he gives in. "Alright," he says softly, and Katara grins. "On that note, would you like to get some lunch? It'd be a pity to let Toph's hard work go to waste."

Katara laughs, and takes the arm he offers. "Sure," she says. "Lead on, oh mighty Firelord."

"Oh Agni, Katara, not you too!"

She laughs again, letting him lead her out to the gardens. No once did the echoes bother her, not once, and the cry for blood in her soul did not rear its ugly head.

~0~

She's hiding out in her room, sprawled across her mattress, when Aang finds her, blustering in through her window like only an Airbender can. Months of traveling with him have conditioned her to his antics, and she doesn't even blink, just continues to peruse the scrolls Zuko had brought to her (handfuls an handfuls of politically soaked poetry that makes her head spin- and judging from the state of Zuko's messy hair and hollow eyes, so did his). The legal jargon of the trade agreements and reparations the Earth Kingdom demands is enough to make her want to freeze the generals to the nearest tree and leave them there, an understandable punishment for making her eyes bleed, but she promised Zuko a proposal, and it helps ward off the shadows of battle, at least for a little while.

"Katara!" Aang says, jumping over to look over her shoulder. He smells like wind and rain, with that inexplicable _boy_ smell that they all have at that age. "Whatcha looking at?"

"The trade agreements with the Earth Kingdom," she says absently, pulling out another scroll and jotting down some notes. The Earth Kingdom demands more than one hundred gold pounds for each village, which she _knows_ is not enough. She thinks of Haru and the other earthbenders, of warriors who lost their homes and their limbs trying to defend their country.

Aang makes a face. "That's gross, why are you looking at that? I wouldn't want to waste my time with that at all."

She sighs and looks at Aang. He's staring at her with a hopeful light in his gray eyes, and the sight of him pulls a smile to her lips. 

"Aang," she says, taking his hand. "You might have saved the Earth Kingdom from Ozai's devastation, but there's a lot to be done before we can successfully say the war is over. I'm doing this because I want to help Zuko secure his rule in the Fire Nation, and securing proper reparations for all the world is the first step in doing so."

The happiness in Aang's eyes drops, and he plops to a seat next to Katara, smushing some of her papers in the process. She _tsks_ and reaches for him, gently pushing his body off her progress.

Aang rolls over and looks at her. "You're really serious, aren't you?"

She doesn't meet his eyes this time, instead continuing to jot down her notes on her growing scroll. "Yes," she says. "I think I'm getting somewhere."

In a startling moment of pure maturity, Aang takes her hand. "Tell me about it," he says, and she finds the sincerity in his eyes refreshing. She smiles and him, and pulls her hand from his, shoving a few scrolls his way.

"Well, the Earth Kingdom demands more than one hundred pounds of gold, which makes complete sense," she says, and Aang begins to read. "But the Fire Nation doesn't really have much money to spare, especially since they're in the transition period from warfare back to farming and other occupations. They need the money to fund their soldiers and turn them back into merchants and farmers, artisans and other businessmen. But there's nothing really else for the Fire Nation to give up, other than land, which they literally can't do."

"Maybe I could put on some Avatar show or something- that might settle the Earth Kingdom," Aang says, grinning at her. Katara stares at him, and his smiles dies. "Right, sorry."

She turns back to her scrolls. "I've been wondering what the Fire Nation could produce that could satiate the Earth Kingdom's need for reconstruction. But the problem is just that, the Fire Nation doesn't have anything to offer. But we do."

She's been debating this for a while. The past few days have been spent holed up in her room, trading sleep for scrolls, wracking her brain for anything that could be useful. That's when it hit her. The Fire Nation had nothing. But the Water Tribes did, specifically in the north. They had healers.

And so, Katara found herself writing to Chief Arnook, begging for Northern healers to join her throughout the Fire and Earth villages. She could raise hospitals, and the Northern healers could help those wounded in the war.

She tells Aang all this, a light burning in her eyes. All her hard work has paid off, and she no longer feels as though she's drowning in blood. But the blank stare Aang gives her chills her, and she can feel the whispers slithering back into her ears. “Sure, ‘Tara,” he says, and rolls off her bed. “Whatever you say. Now come with me, Sokka and Zuko are dueling in the courtyard.”

She sighs. “Aang, this is really important to me-”

“Of course it is, Katara,” Aang says, reaching for her hand, pulling her off the bed. “You’ll do great, I support you completely.” Then, without warning, he leans forward and kisses her. 

The sudden pressure of his lips against hers is surprising, and she doesn’t quite know how to react. Luckily, Aang pulls back quickly enough and shoots her a bright smile. The anger that had been on her tongue dies at the sight of his joyful face, and she tucks it in the back of her head for another time.

 _How dare he_ , the whispers echo in her heart. _You’re a master bloodbender, even the Avatar has no right to touch you like that._

She suppresses the whispers and sends Aang a shaky smiles. “Fine,” she says, letting him take her hand. “Let’s go see the others.” A part of her is frustrated that he won’t talk over her plans with her, that he won’t even acknowledge the slightest amount of responsibility in repairing the world, but he’s her friend, and so are Sokka and Zuko, and she should probably be there incase Zuko accidentally sets Sokka on fire (it’s already happened once, and Sokka won’t let anyone hear the end of it).

They find Sokka and Zuko in the main courtyard, both sweaty and shirtless. Suki and Toph are sitting on the stairs watching, and Katara glides over to join them, Aang hot on her heels.

"Hey," Suki says, looking up with a flush on her cheeks (whether it's from the shirtless boys or the early Autumn heat, Katara doesn't want to know). "Where have you been?"

"Katara's been hiding in her room," Aang starts, cutting Katara off before she can answer. He plops down next to Toph and picks up a glass of mango juice, gulping it down. "She's looking at those boring peace treaties and whatnot, when she could've been down here hanging with us! So, I rescued her!"

Katara's fuming, the blood in her hands boiling and aching to freeze the sweat on Aang's lips, sealing his mouth shut. She loves him, truly loves him, but lately it seems he's abandoned his Avatar determination to restore the world and wants nothing more to kick back and relax. It infuriates her, and judging from the grim smile on Suki's face, the Kyoshi warrior feels Katara's plight.

She turns instead to watch her brother face off against Zuko. Both boys have their blades drawn, Sokka with a beautiful work forged from the Fire Nation, and Zuko, with his plain twin dao. The way they spar is like a dance, the back and forth, advance and retreat, the way their bodies wind around each other- close, but never touching. Katara admires the graceful way Sokka twirls his blade, blue eyes narrowed as they track Zuko's movement.

Where Sokka is graceful, Zuko is powerful. Katara studies the way his muscles flex and bend with his movements, the dao extensions of his arms. He moves with deadly precision, and Katara can trace the beads of sweat flying off his nose as he lunges, disarming Sokka with one dao and holding the other to her brother's throat. Her brother curses, expletives falling from his mouth that even Gran-Gran would have a heart attack, but even so, Sokka's hands are up, Zuko's chest is heaving as sweat drips down every crevice, and Katara's breath is lost somewhere in her throat at the sight.

Toph elbows her in the gut, making her cough and tear her eyes off of Zuko. She turns and glares at the slight earthbender. "What?" She practically snarls.

Suki has Aang distracted, which makes Katara eternally grateful when the next words out of Toph's mouth are, "Watch it, Sugar Queen, if you're not careful, you'll start catching flies."

Katara starts. _Fuck._ "What do you mean, 'catching flies'," she hisses, lowering her voice so Aang doesn't hear. Toph gestures to where Zuko and Sokka stand, and Zuko is demonstrating how he utilizes both dao to his advantage.

"I mean the way you're staring at Sparky over there like he's a honky piece of meat. Don't try to deny it- my feet can sense your heartbeat going crazy from a mile away."

Katara flushes, her blood singing. "It's not- I am not, what are you- Ugh," she finally huffs out, cursing Toph's ability to detect truth and lies. She turns from the earthbender and glares at the dirt, trying to ignore the fact that Toph whispers _it's okay his goes crazy too._ She doesn't need this fluttering in her heart- she's got a country to repair and a world to heal.

Sokka and Zuko come over, and Sokka throws himself down by Suki, moaning dramatically into her leg while reaching for his own glass of mango juice. Toph chortles and moves away, dragging Aang to have her turn in the arena, and Zuko ambles over to her, claiming Toph's seat and throwing a light silk robe over his shoulders.

"Hi," he says, running a hand through his hair. He glances at her disheveled appearance, raising a brow. "Wow," he notes. "When was the last time you brushed your hair?"

She blushes and tamps down the rats’ nest of her hair. “Leave me alone,” she mumbles. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been a little busy trying to save your kingdom.”

He chuckled, reaching over for a glass of juice. “I did,” he says, and Katara blinks. “You haven’t shown up to any of the meals in the past two days, Katara.”

She looks down. “I may have been taking meals in my room.”

He’s quiet, and she looks up, meeting his cynical stare. “It’s the truth!” she argues. “I promise you I’ve been eating.”

He sighs. “I know that too. I’m the one who’s been making sure you’re getting your favorite palace meals. I know you can’t say no to boarpig dumplings.”

She scoffs. “Well then, your majesty,” she says, beating down the furious rhythm of her heart. Toph’s probably having a field day with this. “Since you’re so up to date with my daily schedule, perhaps then I don’t need to go over my plans with you, since you already seem to know them so well.”

That gets the perfect reaction out of him. His eyes go wide, and he flails around with all the grace of an inebriated Sokka. “No wait- Katara, I’m sorry-”

She laughs, and punches him in the shoulder. “Relax, Zuko, I’m just messing with you.”

He grumbles at her, face red, before running his hands through his hair and settling back down. Katara turns her gaze back to Toph and Aang, the likes of which the former has the latter in a headlock, and his feet firmly encased in boots of earth. “Come on, Twinkletoes,” Toph taunts, digging her knuckles into Aang’s head. “This is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen! No way you defeated the Phoenix King of Getting His Ass Whooped.”

Sokka calls out, “Technically he just took his bending!” and this earns him a sharp jab from Suki. Zuko winces at the thorough beating Aang is receiving, but the airbender is laughing, so he must be ok. Katara watches the fight and feels her blood rise to the occasion, the struggle and dirt flying in the air transporting her back to battle, where the air was thick and the blood was thicker-

“So,” Zuko says, startling her out of her reverie. The blood tide recedes, and she blinks, meeting Zuko’s gaze. He’s staring at her intently, and she can tell he knows something’s off, but he doesn’t press that matter. Instead, “What exactly do you have proposed for the next summit?”

“Right,” Katara says, shaking her head. She straightens herself and shoves back the echoes of war, focusing on what matters now. “So I think if we lowered the price down to fifty pounds of gold to each village, _plus_ the addition of Northern healers establishing hospitals and other healing huts throughout both nations, I think that’ll be enough to quench the cries for blood, at least until your soldiers have fully transitioned to farmers and merchants. I know fifty pounds is way less than what they were asking for, and one hundred is an obscene amount, but the addition of Water Tribe healers is what the Earth Kingdom really needs. If we really had to put a value on it, which, spirits, I _hate_ doing, you could say each waterbender is worth at least five hundred pieces, that’s how valuable they are. And then, once the healers and hospitals have been established and you’ve also established a proper way to feed and grow your country, then we can look into further reparations.” 

Zuko leans in, and Katara smells smoke and spices on his skin. “Northern healers?” he questions.

Katara smiles. “I was corresponding with Chief Arnook,” she explains. “The North doesn’t want to demand anything from the Fire Nation until your rule has stabilized. Even then, they have plenty of supplies, and plenty of waterbenders to undo the damage from Zhao’s raid. I think if anything, Arnook may ask for summer fruits and other grains you are able to produce that they otherwise can’t, which is incredibly fair and understandable. So, I figured if anyone would be able to help, it’s the North. They were never really against you, more like against Ozai. There are plenty of healers in the tribe, and many of them have volunteered to come to the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom to help heal the wounded. Chief Arnook thinks it’s a good idea. If this proposal goes through, I think it’ll be best to send the majority of the healers to the Earth Kingdom, and keep a few in the Fire Nation. I’ll be here in the capital to run things until the hospitals can run on their own.”

Zuko blinks, staring at her owlishly. “You’re bringing me healers,” he says dumbly, and Katara rolls her eyes.

“Technically, Chief Arnook is bringing you healers,” she corrects him. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Aang admit defeat to Toph, and she soundlessly beats him into the dust with just her thumb. “I was just the in-between.”

“Yes, but how in the name of Agni did you get Chief Arnook to help? You forget _I broke into the Northern Water Tribe._ ”

Katara waves a hand. “Water under the bridge. Chief Arnook heard what Iroh did for Yue and Tui, and he fully supports you being on the throne. It also probably helps that Sokka and I are now basically royalty with the North. Since Yue became the moon and Hahn basically ran away with his tail between his legs, Arnook kinda made Sokka and I his heirs.”

Zuko’s jaw drops. “What?” he finally says, and Katara chuckles.

“Don’t worry, Sokka and I aren’t going to abandon you and rule the North. Technically Sokka will be the next Chief of the South, and the Northern Water Tribe has a Council of Elders who will decide who the next Chief is once Arnook abdicates or passes. Our naming is more symbolic than anything; Arnook knows we can’t rule once his is over. It’s his way of bestowing the highest honor he can give to the children of the Chief of the South. Relax, Zuko, I’m not planning on ruling the North anytime soon. They would kick me out in a heartbeat.”

Zuko laughs. “I can believe it. You’d demand all the male benders become healers and the females to do whatever the hell they want.”

Katara considers that. “You know what,” she decides. “That’s actually a splendid idea. And while I’m at it, I’ll erect a statue of Gran-Gran in her honor. The men will have a fit, especially Pakku, but secretly, he’ll be proud”

Zuko grins and she smiles back. She could get used to this easy camaraderie with Zuko, she realizes, but somewhere, deep down, that evil whisper returns, _His father destroyed your family_ , burning it’s way into her ears. She shoves it down and swallows the tide, turning her eyes back down to the ground. “Well?” she asks, slowly, trying to get her mind back to the present. “Do you think the ministers will like it?”

Zuko blinks, and there’s a dark look in his eyes that’s impossible to decipher. “I think,” he says, after a pregnant pause. “That it’s a solid plan, and the Earth Kingdom will be appeased. The ministers will still moan over the amount of gold, but I can get that from my personal coffers. I think it’ll work.”

Katara looks up, and the warmth he gives her in the smile sent her way is enough to hold back the tide of darkness threatening inside her. It’s enough to get her through the rest of the day, listening to Sokka and Toph go at each other’s throats, tolerate Aang’s clinginess, and find refuge in Suki’s assuring presence. And later, the memory of Zuko’s warmth is enough to get her through another peace summit, where her proposal is accepted and the Earth Kingdom receives its first installment of payments. 

The ships set sail from the North, and the cries of battle simmer in Katara’s chest.

~0~

The first of the Northern healers arrive over the next few days, having used their abilities to shorten the trip to the Fire Nation. Once Katara meets with them, she sends them out across the Earth Kingdom, and waits for the next boat to arrive.

She's been avoiding Aang during this period, having found his presence and his kiss too uncomfortable to bear. It never used to be like this, she notes as she makes her way through the palace. They never used to have this problem, but Aang's insistence to push the boundaries have finally led up to this moment. 

She finds Aang in the courtyard beyond the throne room. He's crouched on the stone, a mini airball whizzing around his body, Momo scrambling close behind. Katara leans against a column for a moment and smiles at the scene, the blood in her veins quieting to a summer for the time being.

Momo spots her and chirps, abandoning his chase and comes bounding over to her. She chuckles and bends down, scooping the lemur in her arms before walking over to Aang, who has stood up with bright eyes. 

"Hi Katara! Man, these peace summits are boring! Even Momo got tired of chasing my air tornados under the table!"

Katara can't help but feel a slight twinge of annoyance at his tone. Didn't he realize that these peace summits were helping restore the balance between the four nations? That after all the strife and chaos, the peace summits were helping maintain the status quo of order and harmony? She knows that this one was slightly dull, but every peace summit is one step closer to finding true balance in the world again. She shakes off this annoyance quickly once Aang embraces her. 

"Hi Aang," she says, and quickly pulls back from his embrace. She can feel the muscles in his body tense and she leaves, trying to hold on, but he relinquishes his grip on her and lets her step away. "How are you doing?"

His smile could light up the whole world, she notes. His eyes light up as he beams at her. "Great!" He says, spreading his arms wide. "It's been awesome staying here at the palace! My room is huge."

The rooms Zuko put them in are a floor below the royal apartments. Katara's room is bigger than the entire circumference of the Southern Water tribe, and has huge bay windows that let the light in. _This was my room,_ Zuko had said when he showed it to her. _It's one of the safest here in the palace. I hope you'll be comfortable._

"That's great, Aang. I'm glad you're happy. We should probably talk about what's going to happen now-"

"Oh yeah!" Aang interrupts, making Katara's blood sing. "We should go back to Kyoshi island first, I really wanna ride the Unagi again now that I can waterbend, and then I wanna go back to the South Pole and go penguin sledding-"

And there it is. It's so easy for Katara to forget that Aang is just a thirteen year old kid. Somewhere, along the way, the boy with the arrow who wanted to go penguin sledding disappeared from Katara's heart, and was replaced with a warrior instead, the avatar, master of all bending, hero of the hundred years war. It hits Katara like a sabertoothed moose-lion, the realization that this boy standing before her is just that- a young boy.

A boy who she can't love. Not in the way he wants- the way he thinks he wants. Katara can feel the moisture in the air settle on her like a second skin, and she wants so desperately to encase herself in a block of ice and protect her from what she's about to do.

"Aang," she says, stopping the boy from prattling on. "I can't go with you."

That stops him. He pauses, the light in his grey eyes dimming. Momo, sending the sudden change in atmosphere, chitters and jumps off her shoulders, disappearing into the trees. 

“What?”

Katara flinches at the coldness in his voice. It doesn’t suit him. But she started this, and she needs to finish it. She thought that maybe, once the war was over, that she’d eventually figure out her confusing thoughts surrounding her airbender, how yes, her heart fluttered with _something_ when he kissed her, but how she could never fully picture herself being with him. Friends with Aang, of course, but _girlfriend? Lover? Wife?_ She couldn’t picture that future at all. 

“Aang,” she says. “My place is here.”

He stares at her for a moment, and Katara can feel her heart dropping lower and lower in her chest as his eyes freeze over. “What do you mean,” he begins slowly, his voice cold, “that your place is here?”

She takes a breath, and steps forward. “Exactly what I said,” she whispers, raising a hand towards him. He shies away, and Katara’s heart breaks. “Aang, I need to be where people need me. And that’s here-”

“What if I need you!?” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air. Momo squawks at the sudden movement and takes to the air, chittering as he lands in the safety of a nearby tree. 

She shakes her head. “Oh Aang,” she whispers sadly. “You don’t need me. Not that way.”

“You don’t know that! Katara, I want you-”

“And what about me?” she screams back, and immediately hates herself. The way he pulls into himself at her outburst, the flood of sadness pooling in his warm grey eyes- this is what she did. She is a monster. But she can’t stop herself now.

“Have you ever thought to ask what it is that I want, Aang?” she says, hands flying out. “You kissed me, twice, without my permission. You want to be with me. _You_ have plans for you and me. But what about what I want, huh? Have you ever thought to consider what Katara would like to come out of this relationship?”

He’s very quiet. Then, in a meek voice, “What do you want?”

She throws her hands in the air and snorts. “Not this, Aang,” she says. “You’re thirteen years old, Aang. I’m seventeen, and I have my entire life ahead of me. I can’t be with you. My place is here, sorting out this mess we got ourselves in. I can’t go gallivanting around the world with you. The war may be over, but we have a lot left to do in order to secure peace.”

Aang’s eyes are downcast, and Katara’s heart breaks to have done this to him, but a nasty voice inside her whispers _He never understood you_ and _Weakness and mercy have no place in your new world._ Katara thinks back to the fateful night with Hama, and Aang’s _As long as you don’t use it_ rings in her ears, hardening her heart. He doesn’t understand, will never understand, that war is a part of her, that this darkness is her, and she can’t be separated from it. That she can’t be this perfect water princess he has embedded in her mind. 

“But Katara,” he whispers, and the tears finally pool over. “You’re my forever girl.”

She turns away, refusing to let him see her own tears pooling in her eyes. “You’re wrong, Aang,” she whispers. “I belong to no one but myself.”

And then she leaves him, and her heart cries out for the boy who wears his heart on his sleeve while her soul sings for blood and battle once more.

She finds herself back in her room, slamming the door shut and throwing herself on her mattress, bursting into tears. Deep, wrenching sobs are pulled out of her chest, and she weeps for the boy she's destroyed, for a future she could have had, happiness she might have felt. It hurts so much to have hurt Aang, but the wound she's dealt herself cuts deeper.

The darkness wraps itself around her like a shroud. _Death,_ it whispers in her ear. _The avatar would never understand. He didn't have the power to kill. But you do, little puppetmaster._

"Get out of my head!" Katara cries, digging her fingers into her scalp. The reek of death invades her senses, and she opens her eyes, seeing bright red blood painted over her palms. Aang stands before her, and his sad eyes whisper _as long as you don't do it._

Katara screams, and closes her eyes. The world grows quiet, and she surrenders to the sweet pull of sleep as sadness and exhaustion pull her under. 

A little while later, Sokka enters her chambers, clambering up onto the bed and pulling her close. Katara sobs, leaning into her brother's warmth and burying her face in his chest, inhaling the smell of sea and ice. Sokka wraps his arms around her and runs his fingers down her back. "Hey lil sis," he murmurs, bending down and resting his head on hers.

Katara shudders. "I hurt him," she whispers. She pulls closer to her brother and closes her eyes, the cries of the battlefield still ringing in her ears. "I hurt Aang."

 _Yes,_ the darkness says gleefully. _Yes you did._

Sokka rubs her back. "Yeah," he mumbles. "You did, but don't you dare ever think that this was entirely your fault."

Katara blinks and pulls away from him. The darkness recedes momentarily, and she wipes the tears from her eyes. "What do you mean?" She asks, voice quiet.

Sokka rolls his eyes and leans back against her pillows. "Lil sis," he says, scratching his chin. "I've watched Aang pine after you for months. But I know you too well, Katara, and I know how much you need to feel useful, to put your time towards something you believe in. Traveling the world with Aang while he fulfills all of his childhood dreams is not how you're going to be useful."

Katara sighs, more tears running down her cheeks. "But Sokka, I really hurt him," she whispers. Sokka smiles and reaches forward, wiping at her face. 

"Yeah, sis, but the kid's barely thirteen years old," he says. "Of course he's gonna be upset, he's at the height of his preteen angst and you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen." Sokka pretends to scratch his head, deep in thought. "However, he has never seen you first thing in the morning, with all that bedhead and bad breath and-"

She smacks him in the face with a pillow, and he sputters, flailing back onto the bed with a shout. Katara pummels him once, twice, before dropping the pillow and falling down next to him. Sokka coughs, pulling a feather out of his teeth, before laughing. After a moment, Katara does too.

"I'm not saying that what you did was great, sis," Sokka says, and she turns to meet his gaze. "Aang is my friend too and yes, you fucked up. He's going to be hurting for a while, but that's one of the things about growing up. He's gotta learn. Someday he'll realize that you weren't meant for him and he wasn't meant for you. But don't ever think that this was your fault. You can't be with a thirteen year old, Katara, no matter how much he wants you to. And I'm proud of you for sticking up for yourself and not letting him drag you into something you don't want."

She blinks. "How much did Aang tell you?"

Sokka shrugs. "Not much," he says, sitting up and straightening his tunic. "He said you guys got into a fight and that he loves you, but you can't reciprocate. Then he got upset and stormed off. Toph just saw him off the island, he said he needed a little break from the Fire Nation."

This has Katara shooting up, back ramrod straight. "Aang left?!" She hisses, already clambering off the bed. "But what if he gets hurt, what if he needs me? How could you let him leave? What if he-"

Sokka grabs her hand and pulls her back to the mattress. "Relax," he says. "Aang took Appa and Momo, and Suki made sure a few of the Kyoshi Warriors joined him. He's going to Kyoshi for a little bit. Once he's cooled off, he'll come back."

She sighs. "I hate that I did this to him," she says, brokenly. "How am I ever going to fix this?"

Sokka's quiet, and then he sits up, clambering off the bed. "For the record, lil sis," he says, reaching down and ruffling her hair. "I would rather you be here in the Fire Nation, working towards maintaining world peace, rather than gallivanting around the chaos with Aang."

He sighs and looks towards the door. "As for fixing this, only time can heal a broken heart. Take it from experience."

 _Yue._ Katara is quiet- Sokka's never really talked about the Northern Princess turned Moon Spirit, but she can still see the hurt in his blue eyes. He looks at her, and the hurt fades a bit, but it still lingers in the deepest depths of the blue. "He'll be fine," Sokka whispers, and takes her hand. "We all will. Someday."

 _Someday_.

~0~

In her dreams, Katara sees Aang forced to his knees, engulfed in waves of flame. She sees Sokka and Suki, buried in each other's arms, and she sees Toph’s broken body amidst a sea of Fire Nation armor. And worse of all, she sees Zuko writhing in a storm of electricity, lightning tearing him apart, over and over, and she is unable to help. She screams and screams, tears pouring from her eyes, and reaches forward with every ounce of her being, hand outstretched towards a writhing body encased in white-

-And sits up with a gasp, breath catching in her throat, hand stretched out towards the darkness of her room. She clenches the silk sheets with her other hand as the room comes into focus- scarlet walls draped in gold, large windows letting in silver streams of moonlight, her blue robe slung haphazardly over the armchair in the corner.

She is safe. She is in the Fire Nation and the war is over. She is in Zuko’s old quarters, and Zuko is sleeping right above her head in the apartments. And yet, despite the overall safety of the moment, Katara can still feel her heart pounding to the beat of war, can still hear her blood singing of battle and carnage under the surface of her skin. She can feel the tug of the full moon calling her to fight, and her fingers twitch at the thought of blood. The screams of battle seem to ring in her ears, amplified by the silence of the room, and she curls into herself, holding her hands over her ears to try and block out the echoes of war stitched into her soul. But in her mind’s eye, she can still see the fear in the Southern Raiders soldier’s eyes, still taste the fear of fire nation soldiers falling under her water whips. 

The war is over, but the battle still rages on. Katara bites her lip until she feels blood running down her chin, but the pain cannot drown out the call in her souls to drown the world in fire and water.

She throws herself out of bed and wraps her robe around herself. She stares at the doors of her chamber for a moment, debating on leaving and alerting her guards of her present state, but decides against it and moves towards the windows. She pushes the glass out and leans out the window. Below her is a small garden with a round pool of water- Ursa’s garden, she remembers. With one deft hand, Katara summons a wave up to a window, freezing it solid long enough for her to slide down onto the ground below. With a flick of her hand the water flies back into the pool and rests, undisturbed. The turtleducks are nowhere to be found, but it’s the middle of the night, and only restless souls like Katara dare wander through the dark.

She sits by the water’s edge and stares listlessly at her reflection. There’s a line of blood from her mouth to chin. The moon calls.

She raises a hand, fingers stretched out like needles, and draws the blood off her chin. The technique comes easier to her nowadays, and with a start, she realizes that she’s surpassed Hama, the creator of bloodbending. What kind of monster is she now?

“Katara?” a voice says, and she whirls, her blood solidifying into four needles that she sends flying. The person who startled her yelps and dives behind the nearest tree, and her blood needles whizz harmlessly past, embedding themselves in an unsuspecting bush.

“Whoa, Katara!” the voice says again, and Zuko’s head pops out cautiously from his tree protector, eyes wide with concern and worry. “It’s Zuko!”

Katara’s heart drops, and she scrambles to her feet. “Zuko!” she gasps, and he makes his way over to her. “Spirits, I am so sorry-”

He sighs, and plops down on the ground next to her. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I should’ve known better than to surprise a master waterbender on a full moon.”

She almost laughs at the irony of it all. The last time Zuko had surprised her on a full moon, it had been at the Northern Water Tribe, and he had surely regretted it. Here they are, several years later, and in the same predicament. 

She doesn’t say anything, but comes back to settle down next to him, staring into the pond. After a moment of silence, Zuko finally turns to her. “So, uh,” he begins, eyes wandering as he tends to do when he’s nervous. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

He gestures upwards, towards her window, which still hangs ajar. “I was walking through the courtyard and saw you jump ship,” he says. “You looked upset, and still do. Would you like to say what’s on your mind?”

She looks at him, sees the sincere worry in his eyes, and notes that this older Zuko, this Fire Lord Zuko, has gentle eyes, more soft than they were in the heat of the war. She likes this look- this leader, this wise and kind healer of the people. She turns and looks back into the water, and stares at her weary reflection.

 _What’s on my mind_? She asks herself, and touches the blood that has dried on her chin. How can Katara begin to tell Zuko that she lies in bed at night singing herself to sleep on the cries of men she’s hurt? How can she say that the war continues to chant it’s battle cry in her ears all day, how her hands yearn for the call of mens’ blood to submit to her will? How a part of her yearns to level the palace in a storm of blood and water, how she wants to rearrange the world into a sea of ice. How sometimes, the peace is all too loud, and the cries of the dead drown out her thoughts?

“I get them too, you know,” Zuko says, cutting into her thoughts. Her head jerks up and she looks at him, finds him staring out over the water, his hands idly twisting in his lap. “The nightmares.”

She stares, and he continues. “Sometimes,” he says, throwing a piece of grass into the water, “I get this overwhelming ache in my hands to let the palace burn, to feel the heat of the battle on my face once more.”

Katara’s heart pauses. He turns and looks at her, and reaches down, taking one of her limp hands in his. “I know how it feels,” he says solemnly. “To be fighting a war no one notices.”

Her breath catches, and she stares at him with wide eyes. The darkness in her heart withdraws, replaced with the pain of Aang’s departure and a mourning for everything the war has taken from her. She feels a tear slip out from the corner of her eye and she furiously wipes at it. 

Zuko’s eyes soften. His hand squeezes hers, and she looks up at him. “It’s okay, Katara,” he whispers. “Not everyone gets out of a war unscathed.”

She lowers her eyes. “Sokka did. And Toph, and Aang.”

“They’re the lucky ones. My father always told me I was lucky to be born.”

She sucks in a breath. “Did he really say that to you?” she asks, and he nods.

“My father always favored Azula. I think that’s what broke her in the end. She was always the favorite child, the firebending prodigy, but when he tossed her away like another one of his chess pieces, I think she realized he never actually saw her as his daughter, just another one of his playthings in the war.”

Katara scoots closer to Zuko and rests her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she says, wishing that her apology could compensate more for what he lost in the war. “For the record,” she whispers, “I’ve never thought to use you, not in any way.”

Zuko smiles and squeezes her hand. “I know,” he says. “You’ve always seen the good in people, no matter their flaws. That’s what I admire most about you.”

She smiles, and leans closer to him, inhaling the spice and heat off his body. He hesitantly wraps his arm around her, and stares out over the pond. He’s quiet for a moment, then, “Aang didn’t do anything, did he?”

She flinches at the sound of Aang’s name, and Zuko tightens his grip. “No,” she says, burying her face into his shoulder. “I just couldn’t love him the way he wanted me to.”

He sighs. “Aang is still a kid,” he says. “He’s still growing, still learning. He’ll figure it out that the two of you were always better off as family.”

She winces. “I know,” she breathes. “It just hurts that I hurt him so much.”

“He’ll be okay,” Zuko advises. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but eventually he’ll realize, and he’ll come back. He always does.”

She closes her eyes and rests against his warmth, letting the soothing sounds of the water lapping the shore and the steady beat of Zuko’s heart settle her soul. Zuko squeezes her shoulder again, and she raises her head, meeting his eyes. 

“Katara,” he says, then wets his lips and runs his hand through his hair. “If you ever need to talk about it, you know, everything that’s bothering you, I’m here for you.” His words are sincere, and his eyes are liquid gold. “You don’t have to suffer through this alone.”

 _Yes you do,_ the echoes whisper _. Masters of death are always alone._

She closes her eyes. “It’s just,” she begins, and the darkness laughs. “Sometimes it feels as though I’m drowning in the silence, that the memories of the men I killed will bury me alive. It hurts because no one can see how much pain I’m in. There’s a war in my heart and it’s _tearing me to pieces.”_

Zuko’s quiet, and so she continues. “There’s so much blood on my hands,” she says. “I can hear the cries of the people I killed haunt me, follow in the shadow of my footsteps and linger in my heart. I don’t know how to survive this, Zuko, I really don’t know. I thought that once the war ended I would be able to put this all behind me, but I can’t. Death follows me as a permanent ghost.”

He sighs. “I know,” he says. “I remember the very first person I killed- a young earthbender who was going to kill Uncle. I didn’t want to kill him, but I saw the anger and hatred in his eyes, and knew that he was going to kill Uncle if I didn’t do something. I hadn’t meant for my firewhip to kill, just to scare, to maim, but he turned at the last minute and I caught him across the throat.”

She sucks in a breath. “I wish it got easier over time,” Zuko confesses. He looks down at his scarred hands, flexing his fingers in the moonlight. “I can see all their faces, hear the screams, feel the blood on my hands. The memory of the people I’ve killed will linger forever.”

Katara looks at her own palms. “I met another Southern Waterbender in the Fire Nation,” she says, and Zuko looks over to her. “Hama was kidnapped from the south and put in a prison all her life. She perfected a dangerous waterbending technique that relied on the strength of the full moon, and it granted her the ability to control the liquid inside a person’s body. ‘Bloodbending’, she called it, and used it to escape. I found her while we were traveling, and she taught me the technique after turning Aang and Sokka on each other.”

Zuko’s quiet, but she can tell he’s reliving the events of their raid on the Southern Raiders, when she took control of the captain and forced him to his knees. Thankfully, he stays quiet, even though she can see his mind brimming with questions.

“It’s exhilarating, but terrifying,” she recalls, shuddering. “To be able to reach into a person’s body and instill your will over theirs. I’ve become more powerful over the past months, and no longer need the full moon to rely on it, although it’s the most powerful at that point. But now I can sense the vitality running through a man’s veins and feel the beat of their heart. And it scares me so much, Zuko, because I could take over the entire world with this power. I’ve killed with this power, and it’s eating me alive.”

Zuko reaches out and takes her hand. “Katara,” he says, and she meets his gaze, expecting to find disgust or anger, but finds none. “All bending forms have equally dangerous ways to kill. Airbenders could suck the air out of your lungs and leave you to suffocate in a world full of oxygen. Earthbenders could bury you alive and leave you to rot in an underground, airtight prison. And firebending, fuck, we can _burn someone alive_ , and make it so painful that the skin melts off a person’s body before they die. I’ve seen it happen. So please, don’t let this bloodbending power of yours make you believe you’re a monster. You’re not. You’re a warrior and a healer, and you always seek to help, not destroy.”

She sighs. “I don't know how to stop feeling this way,” she whispers. “I know I can use this power for good, but then I just remember the screams of the men who died under it.”

"Think of it this way," Zuko says. "The whole idea of war is to identify the enemy, hit them hard, and keep going. We may have ended one, but we have a new one to face. We just have to fight it a different way."

She closes her eyes. “I’m trying,” she whispers. “But I’m so scared, Zuko. Everyone who’s known me has always seen me as the picture of courage, a pillar of hope and strength. Even in our lowest moments, hours after the failure of the day of black sun, Aang and the others were already looking to me for guidance.” She buries her head in her arms. “But I’m not strong, Zuko. I don’t know how to be.”

“Katara,” Zuko says, in the softest voice. It brushes across her skin like the feathers of a newborn sparrowkeet, gentle and sweet, and it’s enough for her to raise her head once more and meet his gaze. “You are brave enough for anything, Katara. Invading the Fire Nation, hunting down Yon Rha, learning to bend another’s blood. I know that this war has taken much from you, has darkened your heart and poisoned your soul with so much death and strife. I know what this war took from you, your family, your home- you and I know how bad things have gotten and what deep, gut-wrenching pain looks like. And I know it feels like you have no courage left, that your heart is too scarred from wounds of the soul to ever feel like you can be brave again, that you could ever put yourself through something challenging when you’ve already been to hell and back. But I know you, Katara, and I know the pure, healing heart that beats in your chest, the live-giving blood that runs through your veins, and I know you can beat this. You can, and you will.”

She meets his firm gaze. “We’ll get through this,” he says, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her hair. “We always will.”

They sit in silence under the moonlight the rest of the night. Katara feels the darkness gather, the whispers of the dead lingering in the crevices across her soul, but then Zuko’s hand creeps into hers, and helps ward off the shadows until the morning comes. And that’s enough for her now.

~0~

A few days go by, and Katara continues sending Northern healers throughout the Earth Kingdom. Sokka and Suki make plans to head for Kyoshi, check on Aang, and then make a beeline for the South Pole. Toph begins a correspondence with her mother, and agrees to meet with her before the start of winter. Katara feels hopeful for her friend- things are looking up for the slight earthbender who has become more of a sister than anything else. They suffer through some more peace summits, that is, until Zuko decides he’s had enough of them and _hides,_ and apparently it is now Katara’s job to uncover his whereabouts.

She finds him terrorizing the turtleducks. Or at least, it looks like it from where she’s standing. He’s pacing by the pond, one hand torturing his scalp while the other holds a piece of bread hostage. The poor turtleducks hover by the water’s edge, eyes following the bread while the man who holds it is shouting nonsense to the sky. His robes are tousled, and Katara spies the golden crown tossed into the bushes off to his right, glinting in the sun.

“You know, I don’t think the turtleducks can help you with much,” she points out dryly, coming out from under the awning. Zuko pauses and whirls, his one good eye widening for a brief moment. His shoulders sag and he turns around, huffing and tossing the bread far into the water. The turtleducks pounce, and Katara adds one more title to her name: Katara, Hero of Turtleducks.

“Sorry,” he grumbles, shoulders hunching in the way he does when he’s grumpy. “It's been a long day."

"Zuko, it's only 10 in the morning."

He sighs, but then thrusts a scroll towards her. “How am I supposed to deal with all these soldiers?” he asks, desperation bleeding into his voice. “We solved the problem of the wounded in the Earth Kingdom, but the Fire Nation has too many, and there are too many here in the city.”

Katara frowns. “I just sent another group of healers out throughout the nation,” she says, taking the scroll and going through the list of names. “They should be reaching their designated areas soon.”

He sighs, and plops down next to the pond. “I know,” he says, fiddling with his robes. “But there are so many handicapped soldiers here in the capital with nowhere to go, and so many wounded here that need help. Plus...” his voice trails off, and Katara can tell he wants to breach a delicate subject, but doesn’t know how to put it. 

She sighs. “What?” she asks, sitting down next to him, the night of their last encounter here still fresh in her mind. It seems like a habit of theirs now, to join under the cherry tree and soothe each other’s woes by the water’s edge.

He sighs and meets her gaze. “I need to find somewhere to put Azula.”

Azula. Katara thinks about the Fire Princess rotting in the bunker below the palace, decussating into a husk of her former self. After finding out her father was defeated and Zuko crowned Firelord, the princess just seemed to deflate and retreat into herself. _Let her rot_ , the darkness crows. _Make her drown in rivers of her own blood, little puppetmaster._ Katara shudders and shoves the darkness down. She forces herself to look into the calm of Zuko’s eyes, sees the echoes of war lingering in their golden depths, and thinks about the star painted on his chest. The star that Azula put there, shooting him full of lightning that was meant for her.

“How is she?” Katara asks quietly. Zuko sighs, and rubs his eyes. 

“Not good,” he says. “She won’t eat, the guards say she barely sleeps. I know that I should hate her for what she did to me, what she did to us, but she’s my little sister, Katara. I remember when she used to chase me around the palace, when ‘ZuZu’ was the only thing she could say. That little girl is still in there, she’s got to be.”

Katara sighs. “I don’t know, Zuko,” she whispers. “She’s got so much darkness in her soul, do you really believe she can be redeemed?”

“You used to think the same of me,” he informs her. “But you gave me a chance. I’m not asking you to trust her- hell _I_ can’t even trust her, but I’m asking you to trust me.”

She meets his gaze, and remembers _You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends right then and there, permanently._ She remembers the anger and distrust she’d felt towards him, and now she can’t even bring herself to feel anything remotely similar to that. So much has changed in the short time since they met. He’s Zuko, the only one who sees the darkness in Katara, the only one to make her feel like she’s being heard. 

“Please,” he says. “Trust me.”

So she does. The relief in his eyes is palpable, but there is still the case of trying to find a suitable place to hold her, as well as the rest of the wounded. Katara wracks her brain for a location close enough to Caldera City, yet separated enough for the patients to have privacy and solitude. Then it hits her.

“Wait!” she exclaims, startling Zuko with a little yelp. “What happened to the Boiling Rock?”

His eyes narrow in confusion. “The prison?” he says, tentatively. “It was abandoned, since all the inmates were basically ‘traitors’ and prisoners of war. Why?”

She jumps up excitedly. “We can turn it into a hospital!” she exclaims. “Think about it! It’s close enough to the capital that you could make the trip in a couple hours. Plus, each of the cells is the perfect size for a hospital bed. We could even turn some of the cells into larger units for those who need a more permanent living space, or those who need extended treatment. Don’t you see? It’s exactly what we need! We can place all the wounded here in the city at the Boiling Rock, and your sister can go there too, where she’ll be safe and comfortable.”

Zuko’s excitement grows the fire in her belly. This is what she needed, what Aang couldn’t give her. A way to be useful, and help the world heal. 

They discuss a few technical difficulties of the proposal, such as access and redecoration, but Katara waves it off. “We can have Toph redesign the entrance, and I could help siphon some of the heat out of the water. Come on, Zuko, it’s manageable.”

He agrees, and an emergency meeting with his ministers is called. Katara relays her plan, and the ministers accept. Katara feels a lightness in her soul, and when she meets Zuko’s fiery gaze across the table, she knows he feels it too.

~0~

The boiling rock is hot. This is the third time in just a few minutes Katara has had to bend the sweat and moisture off her skin and clothes, and she sends a withering look to Suki, who's giggling at the puddle by Katara's feet. Zuko looks at her and winces in sympathy, and she raised a brow towards him. He's dressed in his formal robes, draped in layers of ruby silk. The golden crown shines in his hair.

There isn't a drop of sweat to be found.

"How," she asks, gesturing towards him. "How are you not sweating under all that? I feel like I might be melting."

He grins and leans his head back as the gondola sways. "The heat has never bothered me," he said, swallowing, and Katara's eyes follow the length of his smooth throat. "Must be a Fire Nation thing. We firebenders are pretty used to it."

Suki laughs, "You must have felt right at home here when you joined Sokka on his rescue mission. I remember Sokka was complaining of the heat for the majority of the time."

Katara grumbles, and once again, bends the sweat from her forehead. But soon they’re making their way onto the platform, and Katara breathes in the slightly less humid air as her feet find solid ground. Immediately, she scans the abandoned buildings of the Fire Nation’s once “greatest” prison. 

“Hmm,” she says, setting a brisk pace that has the others scrambling to catch up with her. “This could definitely work. If we can get some peat, or grass, we can dig up the main courtyard and create a nice space for the patients. And maybe we can open up the windows, make the rooms less cell-like, replace the doors with glass and-”

She continues to mutter, replacing doors here and opening walls there. Zuko keeps pace next to her, a solid, reassuring presence, while Suki leads Toph to see about ripping up the stone from the courtyard. Katara moves, leading Zuko up the stairs until she reaches the highest floor. She turns, and watches his impassive face. There’s a vein pulsing on his forehead, and his teeth are clenched, and he pointedly does not make eye contact with her.

“Zuko,” she says, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm. “What’s going on?”

He sighs and takes her hand in his. “I’m sorry,” he says, shooting her an apologetic look from lowered eyes. “It’s just... fuck, the last time I was here held some pretty bad memories for me.”

 _Right_. She’s forgotten that he put himself through hell for her and Sokka, bringing their father and Suki back from this place. She’s forgotten that the Fire Nation treated him like he was trash, that his own sister taunted him and left him for dead. That he left someone who loved him very much here, imprisoned for helping him escape. She sighs, and pulls him close, matching her breathing to his. “This place holds a lot of terrible memories,” she whispers, and he draws a long, shuddering breath, resting his face in the crook of her neck. “I know how hard it must be for you to be back here, in the very place that made you a prisoner in your own country. But I think it’s also good to not let those memories haunt you anymore. Mai is safe and on Kyoshi island with Ty Lee, and we’re going to get your sister the help she needs.” Katara pulls back from Zuko and meets his gaze steadily. She gestures around him. “And what’s better than replacing a place of grief and pain with healing and love, a place where people can heal and live in comfort.”

Zuko blinks and looks around. “I didn’t think of it that way,” he begins slowly, then turns his gaze back to Katara. “Do you really think we can help her?”

The last time Katara saw the Fire Princess, she was sitting on the bed, curled up and rocking, muttering nonsense and not a gleam in her once-burning eyes. It was such a startling sight that Katara almost didn’t recognize her. It was a pitiful sight, and a part of Katara, the part that screamed for blood and death, wanted to leave the princess to rot. But Katara was Katara, and was determined to help her.

That’s just what she does. _I will never give up on those who need me._

Katara turns, gesturing with her hands to the entire floor. “I propose we turn this level into a suite for those who have extended stays,” she says. “Perhaps three or four suites, each designed for individuals who need extra care, where they can live in comfort while they heal.” She turns back to Zuko. “Where she can heal.”

Zuko sucks in a breath, and Katara takes a step forward. “I promise you, Zuko,” she says, laying a hand on his chest, right over where his scar would be. “I’m going to do everything in my power to help your sister,” she vows, meeting his intense golden eyes. “You saved my life, and now I’m going to save hers.”

He closes his eyes and exhales steam. When he opens them again, she finds herself staring into burnished bronze, and he crushes her to his chest in a hug. “Thank you,”he breathes, hands wrapping around her waist and holding her close. “Agni, Katara, you’re too good for this world.”

The blood that sings of anguish in her would say differently, but Katara has enough willpower to keep the dark thoughts at bay. She smiles and buries her face in his shoulder. “We can do this, Zuko,” she says, as they part. “We can turn this world into a better place, better than we found it. That’s our legacy.”

He agrees with her, and the coming weeks finds her at the Boiling Rock. Toph raises an earth bridge that cuts through the boiling late, and Katara uses her abilities to slowly cool the water. Zuko finds the underground magma lake that fuels the burning temperatures and sucks the heat away, further helping Katara turn the Boiling Rock into a paradise. Suki and Sokka work to help reconstruct the buildings into a hospital, redesigning rooms and knocking down walls. Together, Team Avatar (minus the Avatar) helps quiet a sleeping giant, and the volcano under the ocean is put to rest. 

The day Azula is moved to the hospital- Oasis Island, unfortunately, as it was dubbed by Sokka- is a difficult one for Zuko. Katara stays by his side as the princess is transferred. She’s not chained, especially since she stumbles and is visibly weak from her lack of life in the weeks following the war’s end, and partially because she’s surrounded by the strongest people in the world. Katara sees her into her suite without a fuss, settling the quiet husk of a girl onto her bed. The guards at her door make sure to lock the doors firmly behind Katara leaves, and she’s left with the image of a gaunt and sad young woman with no life in her eyes. That has to change.

For Zuko’s sake.

He’s by her side when they board the ironclad they used to get to the hospital. His jaw is clenched and not even Sokka’s antics can make him cheer up. His eyes are glued onto the island as it disappears over the horizon. Katara looks at him, wishing she could do more in this moment, but finds she can’t.

The shadows creep closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:  
> -I think Zuko and Katara work well together because the two of them are mature enough to understand the perils of war, and they find camaraderie in their shared trauma of losing their mothers in canon. That's what I'm going to focus on for the rest of this story, how Katara and Zuko learn to heal together  
> -Zuko is another character who I believe had to kill (if ATLA was written for an older fanbase). Obviously I do not think either Katara or Zuko enjoy killing, but they had to in order to survive, and this fic will look at how Katara copes with that pain  
> -I love Aang. Aang is my baby. But I had to hurt my baby in order to move this fic along. Please know I did not want to hurt him, and Katara and I love him with all our hearts
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed that chapter. This story is my baby, I've put a lot of time and heart into making sure it flows correctly. I love this fic with all my heart, and I would LOVE your feedback. Let me know what your favorite moment was, or scene, or favorite sentence, anything. Let me know what works, or what doesn't, what what I can improve on in future chapters.
> 
> The next chapter will be up next week!


	2. we walk in storms hand in hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know that sometimes it seems we cannot go on, we cannot fight anymore. I know how tired you are, dear Katara. But you are strong, stronger than anybody. I know this because you suffer the worst wounds, the unseen wounds of the war- the scars left on the soul. I know that you think sometimes it would be easier to fall down and never get back up again. But you will, because I've seen your spirit, and it will keep fighting because strength is in your nature, and you will never give up."

_~ Let the demon sing me a lullaby ~_

_Zombie | Day6_

~0~

It's lonely during the winter. Without Sokka's boisterous laughter and Toph's dry humor, without Aang's light presence and Suki's easy countenance, Katara finds herself going mad in the ruby maze of the fire palace. It's all too easy for the whispers to follow her around, lingering in the silence between her heartbeats and feeding off of the shadows lining her memories. All too often she finds she needs to get away, and sometimes she wishes she too, left on that boat that carried her blood and family to Kyoshi.

But Zuko needs her here, helping to rebuild his country from the ashes Ozai left behind. So, when she's not busy with paperwork or talking down the ministers at each other's throats, she finds herself hiding in Ursa's garden, practicing her bending or feeding the turtleducks.

Sometimes Zuko joins her, but she finds that he's often too stuck under a mountain of paperwork in his office. She'll see the candle burning late into the night, and more than once she's had to drag him off to bed before he works himself into a coma.

She misses Sokka. She misses him like she's missing a part of her. The one link back to her homeland is gone, taking with him all the energy and happiness she lacked after the war. He left her with a kiss on the forehead and a _be brave, lil sis_ , before joining Suki on the ship that would bring him home. There’s a little part of her that wishes she’d made him stay, just so she could hear him tell her he’s proud of her, that he knows she’s made the right decisions. She misses his soothing presence, his boisterousness that can somehow chase the demons away. But he’s needed in the South Pole, and their Dad needs to prepare him for his duties as chief. Sokka belongs there, belongs home.

Speaking of home, that's another thing she misses. Winters at the South Pole were filled with bitter winds and mountains of snow, of howling winter storms and cracking fires. Winters were her safe haven, surrounded by ice and snow, the bellowing winds heavy with moisture and the cold bringing the taste of permafrost to her lips.

Winters in the Fire Nation are different. Katara is _sick_ of the rain. Waterbenders around the world would probably curse her to the Spirit World and back, and Yue would probably be rolling over in her moon kingdom if she knew, but constant thrumming of rain pounding against the palace feeds the unrest simmering in Katara’s soul. Too often she finds herself locked in her room, listening to the steady rhythm of rain and imagines each raindrop is the life of someone she’s taken, someone she’s lost, someone she's hurt. 

This is Kya, this is Jet. This is the nameless firebending soldier. This is Yon Rha. This is Azula.

Today is the first time in _days_ where it’s not raining, but the clouds hang low and heavy over the palace, thick with the promise of rain. Still, Katara cherishes that she has a breather from the melody of death pounding in her ears, and so she goes to Ursa’s garden, where she strips out of her heavy outer robe and wades into the pool. The water is cold and crisp, but not unpleasantly so, and she begins her warmup kata. The turtleducks are nowhere to be found, but it’s winter and they’re likely hibernating in a warmer part of the castle. 

Katara breathes easily as she manipulates a water octopus, the arms of the water dancing around and following the movement of her arms. She can see the guards standing a little further past, watching her intently as she practices her forms, but she can tell from their gentle blood flow and their easy stances that they’re not worried, but simply watching in rapture. They’ve probably never seen a waterbender before, surrounded as they are by heat and flames, and someone of their opposite element must surely come as a treat to them. She shows off a bit, freezing the air around her as she moves, and snow flies through the air in the wake of her arms, swirling around her in a wintery dance as she flows through her forms. The cold settles on her bare skin, flakes landing in her eyelashes and wreathing her hair, and she breathes in the cold, crisp air. _This_ is winter, her own little snowstorm in the midst of the Fire Nation.

Winter in the Fire Nation is nowhere near what winters in the South Pole are like, but they are significantly cooler than the summer and fall. The cool air raises goosebumps on Katara's skin, but the cooler weather and the water under her skin feels like coming home.

“Technically,” a voice calls out from behind her, causing her to lose focus, and the water falls back into the pool with a splash. She whips around and finds Zuko, standing before her, in a light tunic and trousers, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. There’s a bright flush blooming across his pale cheeks, and Katara remembers that she’s in her underwear. “It’s kind of against the law to practice bending in the palace gardens. The flowers might feel threatened.”

Katara chuckles and bends an orb of water out of the pond, narrowing her eyes. “Oh really?” she says, quickly shooting out three ice spears in Zuko’s direction. “What is the revered Firelord going to do about it?”

He yelps and dives to the side, letting the ice spears go flying harmlessly past his head. Katara laughs as Zuko hits the dirt, and a few of the guards attempt to hide their guffaws at the sight of the fiery waterbender thoroughly putting Zuko in his place. It happens often (they see her always dragging him out of his office to sleep and eat, and she’s the only one to really stand up to or for the Firelord during their weekly meetings with the ministers). 

Zuko picks himself off the ground, grumbling at her, but there’s no heat in his eyes. He stretches, and Katara’s eyes track his movement as he unties the sash at his waist. His robe opens, revealing sinewy skin, his muscles flexing as his tunic drops. Katara’s mouth goes dry as she scans him, watching the way his muscles twitch, how his shoulders drop, and how the star on his chest still shimmers in the gray light. 

“Think fast,” Zuko calls, and drops into a kata, his arms and legs spinning out from under him. A giant ring of fire explodes from his limbs, arching out across the garden towards her. It’s a move Katara’s familiar with, and summons water from the air, smashing it down in front of her to douse his ring of fire. The air hisses and the flames scream as they die, and Katara can feel all the water drops in the air around her, suspended in time as she plots her next move. Zuko is already shifting, anticipating her next attacks in the same way she’s doing to him. It’s a dance they’re all too familiar with, the push and pull of their elements in sync with their movements.

It feels good to spar with Zuko. She feels the ringing of war die in her ears as she fights, as if soothed by the action once again. But the thing about sparring with Zuko is that he doesn’t hold back. You can see it in the fierceness of his gaze, the harsh concentration of his movements, the intensity of his bending. He fights her as his equal, meeting her water whips with fire blasts, his fire discs to her water octopus, his fire wave to her water one. It’s always exhilarating to fight with Zuko, because he treats her with the respect she deserves. They are both masters of their element, and Zuko refuses to treat her any less.

By the time they’re finished, Katara has worked up a sweat, and a light rain has begun. Zuko is panting, the water running off the smooth planes of his body, his trousers glued to him as a second skin. Katara’s chest heaves, but she sends a genuine smile to Zuko, who responds in turn. Together, they make a run for the covered entrance to the garden, and Katara wordlessly bends the water out of their clothes once they’ve made it to safety. Zuko’s grateful look is not lost on her, and she flicks the water away with one smooth wave of the hand. 

“That was something I didn’t realize I needed,” Zuko confessed. “I meant to get you to help me on a touchy subject, instead I received the beating of a lifetime. My muscles haven’t felt this sore in months.”

Katara laughs. “What’s the subject?” she asks, quickly braiding her hair away from her face. “Is everything okay?”

He looks down at her sarashi before quickly looking away. Katara does not miss the red flush blooming across his cheeks. “You might, um, want to get dressed before we discuss it. I’d also rather speak of it once we’re in a more private space.” He lowers his voice and his eyes dart around, eyeing the guards that surround him. Katara frowns, ignoring Zuko’s blatant eye wander and instead focuses on the nervousness in his voice. If Zuko is unwilling to discuss it in front of the guards, it’s bad. 

“Alright then,” she says. “I’ll come find you in your office once I’ve changed.”

The relief in his eyes is evident, and he squeezes her hand once before disappearing down the halls. Katara frowns, but makes haste to her own room, disappearing inside and throwing one of her red robes on, tying it securely around her waist. Just to be on the safe side, she ties her waterskin around her waist, even though she is a master waterbender who could pull liquid from the air and manipulate a man’s body against her will. Her waterskin is her waterskin, and has been with her since the beginning. It’s a comfort for her, and seems to help stave off the memories of war when it’s snug around her hips. Once it’s secure, she makes her way down the hall and finds herself outside Zuko’s office. She knocks, and enters.

Zuko turns and meets her concerned gaze. “I’m sorry about the secrecy,” he begins, but she waves him off, sinking into one of the plush chairs by his desk.

“No worries,” she says. “Now tell me, what’s going on?”

He sighs, and comes to sit next to her (never behind his desk- always next to her). “I’ve received some reports of looting and burglary,” he confessed, and something cold settles in Katara’s heart. “I know that stealing in itself is bad, but the scary thing is that all of the places that were robbed were places that supported my rule. The blacksmith who forged Sokka’s sword, the candy shop Aang and Toph like, even my favorite tea shop. All these places outwardly supported me, and now they’ve been hit.”

“They’re being targeted,” Katara says, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks (or, even worse, one of Toph’s boulders). “You think someone is against you and taking it out on the citizens who support your reign.”

Zuko sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea,” he says. Then he looks at her, a dark gleam in his eyes. “At least, not without proof.”

_Ah_.

“When?” she breathes. 

His eyes close, and Katara’s heart sings with the idea of being able to fight, to defend, to let the water sing it’s battle cry once more. 

“Tonight,” he whispers. “I’ll come to you.”

(She doesn't acknowledge the fluttering of her heart at the _implication_ of his words, but a little part of her soul refuses to bury it.)

~0~

She sits on her bed and waits. She’s garbed in all black, hood on her head, and red paint scored across her brows, cheeks and lips. A golden moon is brushed across her forehead. She’s transported back to Jang Hui, and there’s fire and sunlight in her heart. A Fire Nation factory explodes, a village triumphs. The Painted Lady destroys and heals all within the same breath.

A knock on her door alerts her, and she moves to open it. Zuko stands before her, dressed in all black, the mask of the Blue Spirit sitting high on his forehead. His twin dao rest over his shoulder, the handles glinting faintly in the candlelight. Her guards are nowhere to be found. “Don’t worry,” he says, noting her concern. “I paid them to take the night off.”

She rolls her eyes, but joins him as they stealthily move down the hall. They move as shadows, jumping through the nearest windows and onto the palace grounds. Being back in incognito sends a fire stirring through Katara’s veins, reminding her of life on the run with Aang, Sokka and Toph. She remembers her desperation to help the people of Jang Hui, her heart going out to the sick, the injured, the civilians with no voice. The fire ignites within Katara’s blood once more, and she gazes at Zuko’s dark back, the dao on his shoulder. They are one in the same, she realizes. Two people who seek justice for those who are unable to fight for it themselves, to find the peace within all the chaos and cling onto it. They are warriors who fight for those in need, seeking balance for the world and perhaps themselves. The Fire Nation needs balance, needs it desperately. Katara knows Zuko is that balance. And that she’ll do anything to protect it, protect him, from those who would see the world burn. The Avatar restores the peace, but she and Zuko? They keep it.

She misses Aang. She hopes he doesn’t hate her. Even though he has every right to be.

Zuko maneuvers their way down to the city. He’s got the easiest time avoiding the guards, and Katara has an inkling he’s done this plenty of times. She’s not surprised- Zuko has a wandering soul, and there's wind in his heart that yearns to be where he’s needed. Much like hers. Plus, he told her how he was the Blue Spirit in Ba Sing Se, all those months ago, and how he saved Aang from Zhao. Even though they had been enemies, he saved the Avatar from a terrible fate. For all his talk about restoring honor, Katara wonders how he didn’t see that every act of kindness he accomplished showed that he never lost it in the first place. How promising to leave the South Pole without damaging her tribe, how saving Aang from Zhao, how protecting the refugees in Ba Sing Se didn’t prevent him from losing his honor- it showed that he had more than anyone in his family could ever dream of.

They find their targets soon enough. They’re making themselves quite known, breaking glass and storming a shop, flames lighting the area as they shout. Zuko and Katara peer out from the roof they’re hiding on, and even though she can’t see his face, Katara knows Zuko’s eyes are narrowed as he surveys the scene. “That’s Shin’s butcher shop,” he whispers. “Fuck, he was one of the first supporters to my reign when I first took over. Not to mention Sokka's favorite haunting. Damnit, I see at least five assailants.”

Katara frowns. “Can you tell how many are benders?” She uncorks her waterskin and pulls water from the air, letting it crawl up her arms to rest as a second skin over her clothes, a silent and deadly weapon ready to strike as soon as she moves.

He’s quiet. “At least three,” he says after a moment. “Those three, inside the shop. Their body heat is too high for a regular citizen. The two guarding the shop are definitely non-benders.”

Katara narrows her eyes. “Can you handle the guards?” she whispers, and Zuko nods. “Good.”

Then she’s diving over the edge of the roof, Zuko hot on her heels. She rolls past the unsuspecting guards and launches herself into the building, shooting out ice spears. She catches one firebender in the shoulder, another in the leg, and the last one dodges. “Shit,” she grumbles, rolling behind the bashed counter as they unleash their fire on her. She spies Zuko, out of the corner of her eye, swiftly disarming the non-benders. They don’t put up too much of a fight; Zuko is deadly skilled with his dao and the citizens are mere children compared to him. He knocks them out quickly and efficiently, a shadow through the night.

The firebender she didn’t wound comes roaring up, and she narrows her eyes. One thing they always seem to misunderstand is that a waterbender is strongest at night, when the moon holds dominion over the sky, no matter what phase she’s in. Katara thanks Yue for being present, and reaches out with one hand, pulling at the air with all her might.

Zuko flies into the shop, but pauses at the sight before him. Katara frowns in concentration, but she works hard and doesn’t lose focus. The firebender struggles, but she has complete control of the moisture surrounding him, and pulls hard. The air around him solidifies, faster as he struggles, and finally she’s got him encased in ice.

She turns, panting, and meets Zuko’s gaze. He looks impressed. “Good job,” he says. “Now let’s get to work.”

She nods and catches the rope he tosses at her, and they go to work, tying up the unconscious firebenders she'd disabled with a flick of her wrist. There's a part in her that sings from the fight, revels in the return of chaos (even for the briefest of moments), but she's also disheartened, because she's once again had to draw blood to keep the peace. 

They drag the two unconscious firebenders over to the limp civilians by the door, knotting the rope so they’re all tied together. Then they turn back to Katara’s prize. At Zuko’s behest, Katara unfreezes the man’s head, who immediately gasps for air.

“Witch!” he chokes, and Katara wishes she could freeze his grin in place, make the blood pour out of his eyes and let him drown in his own breath. Let him call her witch, she thinks. She could make him a puppet in his own body and rip him apart with only her fingers.

Zuko reaches forward and grabs the man’s head, wrenching it up until he yelps in pain. “Who are you, and what do you want?” he hisses. The man scoffs, but Katara flicks her hand, a deadly ice spear appearing by her side.

“He asked you a question,” she said softly. “Do not make him ask again.”

The man gups, and Zuko raises his dao threateningly. The man gasps. “Zhu Lin,” he cries. “My name is Zhu Lin.”

“And what were you doing here, Zhu Lin?” Zuko snarls, gripping the man’s hair tighter. Katara hasn’t seen this dark side to him in a while, and it calls to her own echoes of war, makes her shudder under the weight of it all. The darkness rises, croons in her ear of blood and war, to make this man scream as she tears him apart.

She shakes it off, rolling her shoulders and lowering the temperature of the air around Zhu Lin, letting the moisture surrounding his face freeze against his skin, not quite solidifying, but enough for him to feel the cold burn against his cheek. The man yelps. "We're supporters of Ozai!" He cries out. He seems to overcome his fear for a brief moment and glares accusingly at Zuko. "The boy Zuko is an imposter, a traitor to the Fire Nation!"

Katara can see Zuko’s body tense, the hand closest to Zhu Lin’s head trembling from his fury. The fire within Katara seethes, and there’s a roaring in her ears that seems to drown out everything but the sound of her own breathing. She sees Zuko’s body shudder, and knows how much pain he’s in to hear one of his own citizens cursing him. For everything he’s done for his nation, and he’s still treated like dirt.

Katara's heard enough. Narrowing her eyes, she solidifies the air behind his head, slamming the ice chunk into his skull. Zuko coughs and jumps away, and Zhu Lin's head drops. 

"Well," Zuko says, wiping his dao against his trousers before slipping them back into their sheath. He comes over to stand beside her, and she can feel his arm tremble. She watches as he pulls the Blue Spirit mask over his head, his eyes dark and unreadable as he looks at Zhu Lin. "That went just as expected."

She sighs. "At least we know now," she says, melting the ice from Zhu Lin. The man drops, like a rag doll, and the anger in Katara preens. _Good,_ it whispers. _Let them all fall. None of them can touch you._

She spares a look at him. “Hey,” she says. “Talk to me.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. “I’m just so fucking _tired,_ Katara,” he whispers. “Half of my country doesn't like me, think I’m a boy king, a pretender. I knew it was going to be hard, but this seems impossible.”

She rests a hand on his shoulder. “Not everyone thinks that,” she breathes, and she feels his heartbeat flutter under her fingers. “I believe in you, and so does Aang, and Sokka, and the rest of the gang. Your uncle believes in you. The rest of the nation will come around. They will, I promise.”

He gives her a wry smile. "How do you always know what to say?" He asks, and her heart flutters.

"I know you," is what she goes with, and that seems to stun him. His eyes widen, and his mouth parts, and Katara does not miss the little skip his heart gives at her words.

She clears her throat and looks away. "Don't let the words of a few disgruntled citizens keep you from changing the word," she says. She looks down at Zhu Lin's limp form, and narrows her eyes. "They're not worth it."

He looks at her, eyes softening, and reaches out, cupping her cheek and wiping off a bloodstain she didn’t even realize was there. “Are you okay?” he clarifies, eyes sliding to Zhu Lin again. 

_What kind of scars will this leave on you?_

She closes her eyes. "I just wish it didn't have to be like this," she whispers, and she can feel Zuko's eyes on her. "I just hate this feeling- this constant battle of wanting peace and also wanting war. When will it _end?"_

She feels Zuko's arms come up around her. "Hey," he whispers, and she presses her face into his shoulder. "I know how much it hurts, how much you're struggling. No one ever said this was going to be easy. But look at you, Katara." He gently grasps her by the shoulders and urges her back so he can look into her eyes. "You just helped me uncover Ozai supporters. Without your help, this coup could have grown- I could have ended up assassinated without you. That counts for something. We ended a war, Katara. Now you're helping to keep the peace."

She sighs, averting her gaze. There's too much in his golden eyes, too much emotion, and she doesn't know how to face it right now. "I just wish it could be easy."

He smiles, and gestures towards Zhu Lin's body. "No one else ever said it was. But I know, at least with you by my side, we have nothing to worry about. Now why don't we get these guys trussed up where the guards will find them tomorrow and get out of here?"

There's no darkness rising up this time, no whispers lingering in the hollow of her thoughts. So Katara smiles, and she and Zuko drag Zhu Lin and his comrades to the city center, leaving them tied up against the statue of Iroh that Zuko had erected at the end of the war.

(And when the officials find them in the morning, no one stops to question why Zhu Lin is screaming about a water witch and her ice spears. Why would they? The man isn't wearing any pants.)

~0~

It’s another rainy day. Katara can feel the tempo of the rain pounding against the palace, can feel the call of water to her fingers as she idly sits in the throne room. The monotonous beat has her bones weary- the constant _thud_ of raindrops against the roof lulls her into her thoughts. This is the same pattern of rain that beat the ground when she confronted Yon Rha. Powerful, angry, and relentless.

Minister Kim is explaining the next planned schedule of Zuko’s visit into the city. She almost grins when the minister points out the last time the Firelord ventured into the city, nearly a month ago. _That’s a lie_ , she thinks _,_ and meets Zuko’s amused gaze. 

Minister Kim offhandedly remarks about the slums- _We should avoid that garbage heap_ , and Katara feels her anger flare up. “Excuse me,” she interjects coldly, and Minister Kim glares. “What exactly do you mean by ‘garbage heap’? Please enlighten me, Minister, I am quite confused.”

The minister is slack jawed, and the glare he sends her way is cooly ignored. Zuko clears his throat, and the ministers turn their attention to him. “Please,” he says, in that crisp tone Katara has come to associate with her homeland- icy and stern. “Enlighten all of us. I too, like Master Katara, would like to know your reasoning.”

His eyes are like chips of ice. Katara catches herself thinking this, and then a moment later, wonders why she cares.

Minister Kim stammers. “I meant no disrespect, my lord-”

Katara opens her mouth to interject, to stand up for the people- people just like her, but it’s Zuko that beats her to it. “Minister Kim,” he says, rising to his feet. He makes his way down from the throne, and all of the ministers are frozen, unsure whether to stand out of respect or stay seated out of fear. Katara rolls her eyes and remains still, and the ministers do the same. “I would like to remind you that your very own Firelord has spent time with individuals who are in similar positions as the ones who reside within the ‘garbage heap’ you referred to. I hope you remember that I have not always lived this life of luxury- I have been banished and scorned. I have lived among the same people you scoff at. Master Katara-” he comes to stand next to her, and she can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. “-comes from a land where there is no royalty, no individuals to seek glory and fame while others suffer. So keep that in mind, Minister Kim. These people who you refer to as living in the ‘garbage heap’ of our city are still our people. We are all one under the eyes of Agni, and if you ever forget that, it would do well for you to remember that you are not above the law, and your status can be revoked if you ever step out of line.”

Katara can feel her heart leap for joy. “Take note, Minister Kim,” she says, and Zuko nods in her direction. "Just because some of us differ in terms of the elements we wield, that does not make us a different race. Money, status, bending or not, we're still made up of the same substances. The same blood runs through our veins."

Zuko smiles. "Please have a draft of a new budget for the city," he says, directing the order to Minister Cho. "I'd like to set aside an additional budget for the poorest neighborhoods in this city, so please, all of you, give me some ideas as to how we can accomplish this matter. As Master Katara said, we are one people, and who should act accordingly. This meeting is adjourned."

The ministers mutter amongst themselves as they file out of the throne room. Katara sidles over to Zuko. "They're not going to like that," she warns, and takes his arm as they too, make their leave. "They don't like the idea of the working class on the same level as their own."

Zuko snorts, leading them out to Ursa's garden. A serving girl brings out a tray of sliced mango and tea, and Zuko nods his thanks. They two of them settle on the ground, and Katara samples the fresh fruit, wiping the juice off her chin.

"I honestly don't really care about their opinions on matters like this," he begins, and loosens the crown from his head. He's the most unconventional Firelord the nation had probably ever seen- the only Firelord who takes off his crown at the first opportunity. But Katara likes that the most about Zuko- he bares his soul out to everyone around him, doesn’t try to cover up with propriety and tradition. He goes with what he believes is right, stands by his heart, and stays true to who he is. He may be Firelord, but to Katara, he’s a boy of fire who stands for all the people, no matter who they are.

Zuko pours her tea, handing the cup to her, which she accepts gratefully. It's just started to mist lightly, but with a little flick of her hand and hardly a speck of her concentration, she bends the rain away from them. "My mission when I first became Firelord was to end the corruption my great-grandfather began, and to right the sins my own father committed. Changes begin internally, and that's how I'm going to fix this. Starting with my ministers. They need to understand that we are all the same, and nothing, not the coin in our pockets, the fire we bend, the color of our skin, can change that."

He looks at her. "After all, if I can have a change of heart, so can they."

_Water tribe peasant._ The name he used to call her sends a shiver down her back, but she shrugs it off. "I could tell you never meant it," she says, taking a sip of tea. "It hurt, of course, and frustrated me immensely, but knowing you now, I realize that you never truly believed the words you were saying."

He sighs. "Even so, it doesn't lessen the fact that I said that. I know it was wrong, and misguided, but even so, you accepted me, despite everything I did to hurt you."

She smiles. "So you're passing it on? Taking my goodwill and using it on the ministers?"

He chuckles. "Like I said, change begins internally. This is their chance to embrace the new world, and I'll take any chance I can get. Plus, this is just an opportunity for me to extend aid to the civilians in my own country. If you've got any ideas, I'm all ears."

She frowns, setting her tea in her lap. "In the Northern Water tribe," she begins, eyes hardening as she recalls the blatant sexism she faced upon her arrival. "Women weren't allowed to learn basic waterbending forms. I was forced to the healing huts when I first arrived with Aang. Women could only use their bending for healing, you see."

Zuko's eyes narrow. "That sounds like a terrible life. How were you able to learn bending if you couldn't train?"

She giggled. "Well, I might've called out Chief Arnook and challenged my current grandfather-in-law to a duel."

Zuko's jaw drops. She laughs. "I got my ass soundly beaten," she recalls. "But I guess Pakku saw some fire in me, and allowed me to train with Aang. It's a good thing he did, because then Zhao attacked, and..."

She trails off, remembering the darkening of the moon and the swell of panic as her bending faded. Her breath catches in her throat, and the darkness, which was quiet up until now, whispers _drown them all_.

Zuko reaches out and grips her hand. She smiles and accepts his silent support, which drowns out the whispers in her heart and gives her the strength to continue. "I think the invasion woke something up in the north pole," she continues. "After the tribe was nearly destroyed, I think Arnook and Pakku realized that they couldn't force their women to suppress the natural part of themselves, only limiting them to one aspect of their nature. Waterbending is what we are, we can't just shut off a part of it to keep with outdated traditions. After the invasion, Pakku began accepting women to join his school, and the women were finally given the voice that had been denied to them for so long."

Zuko's quiet. Then, "So you're saying I should incite a rebellion against the upper class to introduce change."

She laughs. "Absolutely not," and he grins. "Your country is already unbalanced as it is, the last thing we need is a civil war between the working class and nobility. What I am trying to say though, is that sometimes it takes a little eye-opening to identify the problem and fix it at its source."

Zuko frowns. "Identify it at its source, huh," he mumbles to himself. By now, the rain is coming down in sheets around them, but Katara is easily bending it away from them, creating a little air pocket of calm amidst the chaos of the winter storm.

"What if we create a school, for benders and non benders alike," he begins, and his eyes widen with excitement. Katara smiles. "That's it! The middle and working class don't have a school for their kids to go to during the day. A lot of those kids end up on the streets and in trouble since they don't have anything worthwhile to do. If we create a public school, something that teaches the arts, history, maths, we can educate those who do not have the opportunity to do so and help keep the youth from resorting to other means to entertain themselves."

Katara nudges him. "Look at you go, your majesty," she says. "You asked for ideas and came up with one all by yourself."

He smiles, and his eyes soften as he takes her in. "Only with your help," he says, and takes her hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you here, Katara. _Thank you._ "

She swallows, unable to take her gaze off him. His eyes smoulder, brimming with warmth and something else, creating heat in her core and blossoming out towards her extremities. She coughs, and forces herself to look away. "I should be thanking you," she begins, flashing back to a time when there was lightning in his veins and tears in her eyes, with fire burning all around them. "I don't know what I'd do without you here. No one understands me, not like you do."

His eyes are soft, and the hand that squeezes hers is strong and sure. "I'll always understand you, Katara, and if there comes a time where I don't, I'll do everything in my power to try to. That's what we do- we balance each other, help each other, no matter what it is that troubles us. That's just how you and I work."

She smiles. "Do you ever think we can go back to how it used to be? Before the war, when we were young and innocent?"

He sighs. He looks up at the rain pouring above them, watching as it bends away from their heads and lands on the ground a ways away. "No," he says after a moment. "That's the problem with this war- it made us grow up way too soon. But I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. Now we know what's good and what's bad, and what we can do to fix that. It's just in the process of figuring out where we go from here that we find out who we are now."

He looks over to her. "You and I will always have the scars from the war," he says. "But I know we can rise above it. We always have."

She sighs. "You got that from your Uncle, didn't you," she deadpans, and he laughs.

"Only a fool would disregard the famous words of a well-respected tea shop owner," he begins imperiously. That makes Katara laugh, and she loses focus on the rain for a brief moment. However, that brief moment is enough for the rain to thoroughly soak them through. But Zuko is laughing too, and his hand is in hers as he tugs her up, and they sprint for the covered pavilion. 

She thinks it may be the first time in a while she's felt such childish joy. But she doesn't mind it, especially when Zuko's hand is in hers and his smile is bright enough to rival a thousand moons.

~0~

Of course, because the universe loves to mess with Katara (it must be a Water Tribe thing), Zuko goes missing for _weeks,_ and Katara is furious with him. They’re friends (although the strange feelings she’s been dealing with lately have her feeling all sorts of _confused,_ not that she’ll ever confront them), but she’s positively raging. It’s gotten to the point where even the servants and guards are nervous that she’ll follow up on her threats to _castrate him and feed his entrails to the sabertoothed mooselions!_

Even Uncle Iroh, who’s come to the Fire Nation on his nephew’s behest, can’t seem to calm her down. In fact, the notion that Zuko told _him_ where he was going and what he was doing has her seeing red. He’s lucky she doesn’t know where he is, otherwise she’d be by his side in a heartbeat and dragging him home. _By his hair._

Suffice to say, her meeting with the ministers is not going well. Usually, she has Zuko to back her up and support the decisions she makes and the proposals she pushes through, but apparently the ministers have decided to grow a backbone while he's gone, and Katara is not doing well. Her proposal to fund the Boiling- Oasis Island, damn Sokka- has been rejected again.

“What in Agni’s name do you mean you can’t allocate an extra five hundred pounds for the healthcare system?” she fumes, slamming her papers down in front of Minister Chan. His bottom lip trembles, and the darkness in Katara sneers. _Good, make him fear you_ , it hisses, and Katara shrugs it down.

“I’m sorry, Master Katara,” Minister Chan says slowly, trying hard to cover the quake in his voice. “But the Fire Nation simply cannot support such a large sum at this time. We’re still working on feeding the Nation, and the Earth Kingdom tariffs on grain and fruits are absurdly high.”

Katara’s brow twitches, and the whispers in her heart seek to bury the ministers in their own blood. “Forgive me,” she says lowly, through gritted teeth. “But I simply fail to see how funding a hospital meant for the soldiers who gave their service and loyalty to their nation does not warrant the means to provide more. Please, ministers, _enlighten_ me as to how you cannot dig up this extra funding to help provide care and comfort to the people who were injured fighting for their country so that you could live in extravagance?” The last worlds out of her mouth are practically snarled, and she can feel the urge in her fingers to bury this palace in rubble and ice.

Minister Kim shoves his glasses further up his nose and clears his throat. Katara turns her burning gaze to him, and he shrivels for a moment. “My lady, Katara-”

“It’s, ‘Master’,” she spits, interrupting him. His eyes go wide, and a couple of the ministers lower their heads at her anger. “I am not a lady, and certainly not _your_ lady. I am a master waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe, and you _will_ treat me with the respect that I deserve, _Minister_ Kim.”

The minister gulps, and the room is quiet. Katara can hear the roaring wave of anger pounding in her ears, feels the rising tide of darkness in her soul, but it plateaus when the minister bows his head. “My apologies, Master Katara. What I was simply trying to say is that we do not look down upon these soldiers, whom we are grateful to have supported their nation, but we cannot figure out how to allocate the extra funds on an already limited budget. Firelord Zuko had to pay much of our nation’s gold to the Earth Kingdom, and it has hit us hard.”

“Then maybe you should have thought before you supported a madman who wanted to turn this world into a pile of ash and rubble!” Katara snaps, slamming her hands on the table. The ministers all collectively jump, and Katara glares each one of them down. “Minister Lee,” she calls, eyeballing the reedy one on the end with a silver streaked beard. He squeaks as she narrows him out. “Your family owns three mansions, one here in Caldera city, another on Ember Island, and another on Whale Tail Island. Each one, I hear, is ostentatiously designed, with enough gold in them to feed the entire world three times over.”

She points out the next victim. “Mister Cho, your family owns a massive fleet of trading vessels that have been prosperous these last few months, carrying furs and grains to and from the Earth Kingdom. Minister Kim, your family owns the great Azulon bank, and has access to all the richest nobles across the nation. And you, Minister Chan,” she snarls, turning to glare at the final noble, who is positively quaking in his robes. “You are the master of the architect of Caldera City, _and_ you helped design the atrocious statue of Ozai in Fire Fountain city, which, may I add, is carved entirely out of gold. So don’t you dare tell me you cannot find the funds to give me an extra five hundred pounds to help those in need. You do have the funds, you’re just being stingy, and I _refuse_ to let you get away with this while innocent people have to suffer.”

Blood boiling, Katara turns and storms away, making a beeline for the exit. She hears the ministers all collectively sigh behind her, and the wave of rage finally takes over. Her fingers twitch, and she _pulls_ , extracting the water from the air and freezing it into an ice spear. She whirls, letting the ice fly, and the ministers all scream when it plunges into the conference table. “That’s,” Katara says, malice dripping off her words. “For all the people in this city that you’re going to fail if you do not find those funds for me. I will not miss next time. Mark my words carefully, ministers. I am helping these people. Are you willing to do the same?”

The ministers, thankfully, are quiet. “I expect an answer by tomorrow,” she says firmly, and turns away. “Do not disappoint me.” Then, in a whoosh of skirts, she flees, exiting the room and nearly sprinting down the halls. The anger is replaced by shame, and she’s so terribly scared of herself. She gave into her darkness at that moment, and rejoiced in the fear the ministers held for her. She could have killed them, and not just with an ice spear plucked from the air. The darkness whispered in her ears, and she could have vey well plucked at the very strings of their blood, becoming marionettes of her own will. She could have drowned them in their own blood if she wanted.

She finds herself wandering the halls, letting the tides of fury wash over her like a rolling storm. She sucks in a deep breath, holding back the rising darkness from gripping too hard and comes to a stop. Her hands clench into fists by her sides, and she can feel the very air around her freeze into crystals as she tries to stay strong.

"Katara, my dear, is that you?" A kind voice says behind her, and she whirls, finding Iroh, Dragon of the West, standing behind her with a pot of tea. He smiles, taking a step forward, and Katara feels her soul settle upon the arrival of the wizened general.

"General Iroh," she says, dropping into a curtsy. Iroh immediately waves her off, stepping in close to clasp her hand with his.

"My dear," he says, patting her palm and staring at her with gentle, kind eyes. "Just call me Iroh, or even Uncle, if you wish." He winks at her. "Might this old man interest you in a cup of tea? Jasmine, with a little dash of something special."

Katara feels her heart warm, and she links her arm through his elbow. "I would love to, Uncle. Where were you planning on taking tea?"

He wiggles his bushy eyebrows at her, and she laughs. " I often find peace of mind by the calm of the water and the whisper of wind through the trees, do you not?" He replies in turn, and Katara smiles as he leads her to Ursa's garden. It seems to be the epicenter of peace within the palace, whether it's the protection of secrecy in Zuko's case, the enjoyment of an old man's pleasure, or in Katara's case, the soothing presence of water amidst the chaos of her memories.

General Iroh asks one of the palace guards to retrieve an extra cup, and Katara watches with a warm glow in her heart as the guard nearly scrambles over himself in his haste. "They admire you greatly," she notes, taking a seat next to the pond. The weather is once again, in her favor, and the grey rain clouds hide over the horizon. 

Uncle Iroh chuckles and joins her. He places the teapot on the stone and cups it with his hands. Steam rises from the spout, and he winks at her. "They just love to humor an old man with his tea pot," he says jovially. Katara shakes her head at him.

"I think it's more than that. I used to think that all Fire Nation soldiers were cruel and heartless, but I'm seeing more kindness in their hearts the longer I stay here."

Yon Rha flashes through her mind, and a little whisper of _Fire Nation scum_ sings through her. Iroh seems to witness her moment of darkness, and he rests a hand on hers. "My dear Katara," he says. "My sweet child, what troubles you?"

She sighs. She can't hide anything, it seems. Not from Zuko, and not from his uncle either. "Dark thoughts plague my mind," she says, meeting his easy gaze. She finds no judgement, no harsh anger. He smiles, encouragingly.

The guard comes hurrying back, and Katara lowers her gaze. Uncle Iroh smiles as the guard proferers the offered cup, and takes it graciously. The guard bows, short and prefunct, before turning and walking away, back to his post.

Iroh sighs. "I always find tea calming, don't you think? There's nothing more peaceful than enjoying a cup of tea with a good friend." He pours tea into her cup and hands the steaming mug to her, which she takes gratefully. He's heated it enough where it staves off the winter chill, but cool enough for her to sip. The taste of Jasmine and ginseng invades her senses, and she feels all the tension in her body flee her soul in a heartbeat. 

"Uncle, this is delicious," she says. The fragrant tea lifts her senses, this tiny little cup of warmth draining all the cold and tension from her body with every sip. It’s fitting that she’s taking tea in Ursa’s garden with Uncle Iroh. This is Katara’s sanctuary, her little piece of quiet paradise, a tranquil asylum away from the chaos of her mind. A cup of calming tea with a gentle, kind soul in Katara’s safe haven is a recipe for serenity, at least for a short while. She revels in this moment, and takes it while she can.

He chuckles. "Ah, my most distinguished favorite amongst the many at the Jasmine Dragon. It pleases my heart that you say so."

Katara takes another sip, letting the tea soothe over her like her healing skills. She meets Iroh's gaze. "But," he says. "We did not come to sit under this tree to speak of my tea making skills, did we now?"

She lowers her gaze. "No," she agrees. "We did not." She pauses, and Iroh does not press her. She can see in his gaze that if she chooses not to tell, he won't ask- something he and his nephew share in kind. So willing to support, a quiet comfort that never seeks to push the boundaries. She can't help but love the two of them for it.

"Sometimes I feel as though I'm suffocating," she confesses. "I lie in bed dreaming of the men I killed, of the atrocious thing I did to help Aang survive. I feel the weight of my actions pressing me down, and I think I may be buried alive under the anger and hatred of what I've done." She shudders, and closes her eyes. " But I think the worst thing of all is that a part of me actually likes it- the killing, the bloodlust, the war. Sometimes I find myself wanting to level the palace in a sea of blood. There's darkness in me, Uncle, and a part of me thinks I died out there on the battlefield, and only this cruelty remains."

It's quiet, and she bravely looks up. Uncle Iroh is regarding her with solemn eyes. "My dear Katara," he begins, and there is no malice in his voice. "There are many evils in this world, the likes of which you have witnessed, and the likes of which you have not. Take my brother, for example. That man committed atrocious things in the name of the Fire Nation. He burned my beloved nephew for standing up for those who did not otherwise have a voice. He used his daughter for his own dark purposes, and now she's a broken husk of the proud warrior she once was. He used his wife to kill our father, and she went down for his greed."

Iroh takes a sip of his tea. "You, my dear," he continues. "You have shed Fire Nation blood in the defense of the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom. You have taken lives, yes, and that will leave it's impact on you for years to come. But, Katara, it's how you live your life that matters. My brother was evil for most of his adult life- he committed felonies and crime because _he_ wanted to. He hurt people and reveled in the glory of feeding in their blood. You killed because you had to, because there was no choice. I know you do not enjoy it, and I know the choices you've made have you feeling like you're being ripped into two. But I know the pure heart that beats within you, and that is the difference between good soldiers like you and rotten criminals."

She feels tears being pulled to her eyes and she furiously wipes at them. "I don't feel like I've been good," she admits. "The echoes of war seem to follow me no matter what I do, and it's getting harder and harder to drown out their presence."

Iroh sighs, and reaches over, pouring her more tea. "My son, Lu Ten, perished in the siege of Ba Sing Se. It was an accident, you see, he was trying to settle a skirmish between Earth Kingdom soldiers and his unit, when a broken section of the wall crashed down onto him. From what I hear, he was killed instantly, so there was no pain, but there was also nothing left for me to cremate.I lost more than just my son that day. I lost the brightest light in my life, my purpose to fight. Lu Ten didn’t just die that day. A part of my soul died with him, buried under the rubble the war left behind."

She feels her heart break at the sadness in his tone. "I know that sometimes it seems we cannot go on, we cannot fight anymore. I know how tired you are, dear Katara. But you are strong, stronger than anybody. I know this because you suffer the worst wounds, the unseen wounds of the war- the scars left on the soul. I know that you think sometimes it would be easier to fall down and never get back up again. But you will, because I've seen your spirit, and it will keep fighting because strength is in your nature, and you will never give up."

She looks at him, finding pride and love in his gaze. He reaches out and cups her cheek, stroking away the tears running down her skin. "But you do not have to fight this alone," he advises. "I know that some in your party are blessed with ignorance, and have enjoyed life after the war to its full capacity. I know that they may not understand, but some will. Take my nephew, for example. He understands, more than anyone, the scars that war carves into the human psyche. Has he talked to you about it?'

She nods, taking another sip of tea. "A little," she says. "And you're right, the darkness does fade when I talk to him. It helps, being able to share in each other's pain and take comfort with our shared history, but it's a bit difficult to do when he's _not here."_

Iroh chuckles. "Ah, that," he says, pulling his hand away. "I wish I could give you a little insight into my nephew's whereabouts, but my dear, he asked me to keep quiet. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Katara stares into the pond. There's a lightness in her heart that hadn't been there when she first came here. Perhaps talking with Iroh had been a good idea.

Iroh sighs. "We are not the same people we were before this war, my dear Katara. But we are also not the people we are meant to be, not yet, anyway. It's all in the process of moving on and figuring out what life is all about that matters. It's about the memories we make now, and the people we love and cherish to guide us on our way."

He side eyes her. "Just remember, the path of healing is a long and difficult journey, but the strength of our loved ones is enough to get us through even the worst hardships."

~0~

She’s getting ready for bed when she receives the knock on her door. Quickly wrapping a robe around her shoulders, she opens the door to meet the bright gaze of a Firelord who went missing weeks ago. Her jaw drops, but before she can do anything (hug or shout, she doesn’t know), Zuko presses a finger to his lips. “Shh!” he says. “No one knows I’m back yet.”

She blinks and looks at the guards standing by her door pointedly. One of them coughs, loudly, and Zuko turns red. He looks at the guards, then back to her, and then back to the guards, muttering, “Not a word,” before turning his gold eyes back on her. “Hi Katara.”

She narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare ‘Hi Katara’ me,” she snaps. “I have spent weeks in the dark not knowing where you were, if you were hurt or in danger, and you left me to the _mercy_ of your ministers, you slimy hogmonkey-”

He laughs, holding his hands up in the air. “I’m sorry,” he says, eyes wide with sincerity. It pulls at something primal within Katara, something that warms in the very core of her being. It’s a nice feeling compared to the swells of war stirring in her veins, and she welcomes it, even if she’s not sure exactly what it means. “I didn’t mean to scare you, and I certainly did not mean to leave you to the wolves.” His eyes soften. “But I figured if anyone could handle them, it’d be you, Katara.”

She squirms, unsure of how to handle Zuko’s candidness. “And your uncle,” she quips, avoiding the subject. “You dragged your poor uncle out of retirement to serve as regent while you went gallivanting off to the ends of the world. What have you got to say for yourself?”

He laughs. “I’ve brought back the finest tea from all four corners of the Fire Nation as penance for my sins,” he says. “My uncle could _bathe_ in tea for the rest of his life and _revel_ in it. Plus, once he found out why I had to go, he came willingly.”

She frowns. “And what,” she begins in a clipped tone, “is it exactly that was so urgent you had to drop all your duties and disappear from the world for two weeks?”

He smiles, a beautiful sight that startles her- Zuko smiles are rare and few between. He can smirk and he can grin, but the genuine smiles of happiness are rarely conveyed. She’s witnessed only a few smiles from Zuko, and she’s rather gratified that this one is for her eyes only. She smiles back hesitantly, and he reaches out a hand.

“Come with me, Katara,” he says softly. “I’d like for you to meet someone.”

She frowns, but takes his hand, and he leads her upstairs, towards the royal apartments. The fire guards that line the entrance to his suites stiffen upon his arrival, but make no comment as he leads her in, closing the door firmly behind her. 

She gulps as she takes in the size of the space. They’re standing in a living area, complete with a boudoir, couches and tea tables. Off to the right she can see the doors to his bedroom, the golden posts of his bed glinting in the moonlight. Off to the left is another set of doors that most likely leads to an office and possibly closet, bigger than the entirety of the Southern Water tribe. Zuko grins and hurries her towards his bedroom, which makes Katara’s belly flop. Before she can voice her nerves, he turns, a bright gleam in her eyes. “Whatever you do,” he says, squeezing her hand. “Please don’t scream.”

She doesn’t really have time to digest that information before he leads her into his room, and the sight before her wrenches a gasp from her lips and tears to her eyes. 

Standing before her, on a balcony that opens up his room, is a dragon. 

The creature turns its sinuous neck so that it faces Katara, and she stares up in wonder. It regards her with gentle amber eyes, nose twitching as it takes her in. The dragon crawls forward, sliding further into the room, and she revels at the size of it. The scales on its face are wine red and are larger than her hands. The dragon shakes out its light mane, whiskers twitching, and grumbles, long and low. 

“Katara, meet Druk. Druk, this is my closest advisor and best friend, Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.”

The dragon snorts. Katara thinks she’s in love. She turns her wide gaze onto Zuko, who’s staring up at Druk with a mixture of love and pride in his eyes. He looks at her and smirks. 

“How?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Zuko smiles and steps forward, resting a hand on the dragon’s snout. Druk snorts and rests its large head on the ground, regarding Katara with curiosity. “I received a letter from the Sun Warriors a few weeks ago,” he says.

“The people who taught you to fire dance?”

He sucks in a deep breath and closes his eyes. She can see him forcibly talking himself down from bursting into an outbreak, and hides her smile (that joke will _never_ get old). “It was the Dragon Dance, an ancient form of firebending,” he says through clenched teeth, although lacking heat. “And yes, they were the ones. They are the guardians of Ran and Shaw, ancient dragons who perfected the art of the Eternal Flame. Aang and I might’ve accidentally stolen the Sun Warriors’ treasure, which apparently, was this fellow right here.” Zuko scratches Druk’s snout, whose eyes cross in pleasure. Smoke curls from his nostrils, and the dragon looks mighty pleased with himself. He reminds Katara so much of Zuko, who preens with delight when he gets something he wants, or is praised for doing something good. This dragon is basically Zuko in animal-form, and that brings a smile to her lips.

Katara raises a brow. “You attempted to steal treasure?”

Zuko rubs the back of his head. “Um, yeah, it was kind of an accident. But yes, apparently the golden egg I picked up happened to be Druk’s egg. The Sun Warriors wrote and said Druk hatched, and apparently I was his new master since I was the last firebender to hold his egg, and he deemed me worthy? I’m not really sure of the logistics of the entire thing, to be completely honest, but Druk chose me and I chose him, and after spending the last week with him I really can’t imagine life without him.”

Katara takes this in, studying the dragon, and he to her. She steps forward. “May I?” she asks the creature, who lifts his head and snakes over to her. He sucks in a deep breath, inhaling her scent, and she reaches out a hand. “You’re beautiful,” she breathes. The dragon regards her with wise, calm eyes, and lets her touch his scales.

He’s surprisingly cold at the first touch. She’s shocked at first, but as she continues to rest her hand on him, she begins to feel the pulsing warmth underneath. “It’s like a flame,” she notes. A little fire throbbing under his scales, just like a beating heart. 

The dragon rumbles as if in accordance, and Zuko grins. “There’s an inner flame that beats within the hearts of all creatures with an affiliation to fire. It’s basically our heartbeat.”

Katara looks up at him, and she remembers now, the way his blood pulsed under her hands on that fateful day where lightning crackled across the sky and scarred Zuko’s chest, and her heart. The pulsing beat of fire burning in his veins. It reminds Katara of the whisper of water within hers.

She turns her attention back onto Druk. “He’s beautiful, Zuko, really. I find I can’t be mad at you anymore now that you’ve righted the wrongs your great grandfather committed in his youth. He hunted dragons, and now here you are, a friend to the very same creatures.”

Zuko blushes, then comes over to stand next to her. “It’s a good feeling,” he agrees, staring at the red beast. “I knew it was my destiny to restore honor to the Fire Nation. This feels like one step closer.”

Katara stares at Zuko, feeling warmth in her soul, until Druk breaks her concentration and nudges her hand. She laughs and scratches at his scales, and he lets out a very dignified grumble. Zuko’s eyes warm. “He likes you,” he says.

Katara laughs. “That’s good. I like him too. But how is it that he's so big? You've only been gone for two weeks, but he's already larger than some of the icebergs in the south.”

Druk grumbles, and Zuko laughs. "Well despite the fact that Druk is basically a toddler, dragons grow really quickly in their first few months. Ran and Shawn are huge, basically like behemoths compared to this guy. He'll get bigger quickly in the next few weeks, but then slow down after that. The Sun Warriors told me it'll take decades before he reaches his full height."

Katara stares wide-eyed at the dragon. "Wow," She says. The dragon looks at her, curling his upper lip, and she believes he might actually be grinning at her. She looks over to Zuko, who’s incredibly _pleased_ with himself. He catches himself and coughs awkwardly.

“What did I miss while I was away?” he begins, and Druk, as if sensing the incoming storm, edges his way back out to the balcony. 

“Well,” Katara says. “Despite abandoning me to the cavefrogs you call ministers, nothing much. I’ve kept my eye out for any more criminals pillaging shops, but it seems like we caught everyone involved.”

Zuko visibly relaxes. “Thank Agni,” he mumbles. “Still, let’s stay vigilant- I don’t want us to miss anything. They could still be out there. But what’s this about the ministers?”

Katara snorts. “They’re denying me an extra five hundred pounds for the hospital,” she spits. “Can you believe them? Thousands of pounds of gold between them, and they won’t scrounge up some for me? For the people who bled for their country?”

Zuko’s eyes narrow. “Not that I’m on their side, but what exactly do you need the extra money for?”

She sighs. “There was a pipe leakage in the kitchens,” she explains. “Turns out, there was extensive damage with a lot of the architecture, so I wanted to get some workers in to replace the entire kitchens and make it safer for staff to use. I also wanted to expand on the more permanent residences within the hospital.”

Zuko freezes. “How is she?” he says, quiet and unsteady.

Katara shrugs. “I check on her whenever I’m there. She really hasn’t changed- the guards say she stays in the same position for most of the time, and isn’t violent towards any of her nurses. Healing doesn’t work on her- physically, I can find nothing wrong with her brain nor body. It’s just like she’s given up.”

He closes his eyes. Druk grumbles from his place on the balcony, but doesn’t move. Katara bites her lip, then steps in close. “Hey,” she says, placing a hand on his arm. "You know, you could always come with me."

"No," his response is immediate and firm, his eyes squeezing shut. Katara's heart goes out to him. The pain he's enduring must be great, if his inner conflict to visit his sister causes this much of a physical reaction. The first time she tried to get him to visit, shortly after Azula's move to the hospital had garnered a similar response. It must kill him, she realizes, watching his face, the tension pooling at his temples. To want so desperately to see someone you love, yet be so terrified of what they've become.

She decided to change the subject before he becomes too stressed. The Azula topic, specifically _visiting_ Azula, can wait. It can wait however long it takes before he feels ready enough to see her. She squeezes his arm. “I made a promise to you, didn’t I?”

He opens his eyes, and Katara can’t decipher the molten look in his eyes. One hand comes up to rest on hers. “I know,” he whispers. “I just- a part of me thinks it would be better if she stayed like this for the rest of her life, harmless and docile, so no one else would get hurt.”

Katara squeezes her hand. “You don’t believe that.”

He sighs. “No, I don’t. There’s still good in her, Katara. She may have been cruel, Ozai’s perfect warrior, relentless, but you saw her in the end. The little girl I once knew was there, crying for our mother. Ozai was cruel to the both of us- but honestly? I think I got the better end of the deal. Ozai scarred my face, but Azula? He scarred her soul.”

Katara looks away. “I won’t pretend that I like her, Zuko,” she says. “She hunted Aang relentlessly, attacked Sokka and I, tortured Suki, and taunted Toph. I watched her shoot lighting at her own brother and try to kill me while there was still life in you. I can’t say I can imagine what she went through, nor can I empathize with her.” He looks up at her, but she holds her hand up. “But, I saw the way she looked at you in the end, with tears in her eyes, sobbing your name. I know what it’s like to love the people who loved you. And I know what it’s like to feel betrayal and hurt, and I know what it’s like to have darkness in your soul. I promised you, Zuko, that I’d find a way to fix her. I won’t break that, not for anything.”

He smiles, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead, sending warmth fluttering down all the way to her toes. “Thank you, Katara,” he whispers. He pulls away, and sighs. “I’ll make sure you get that budget approved,” he says. “Anything you need, Katara. Just say the word, and it’s yours.”

She narrows her eyes. “Oh really?” she says. “How about you abdicate the throne and declare me Supreme Ruler of the world?”

Zuko’s eyes twinkle, and wrinkles appear around his good eyes. “I’m sure I can set something up,” he says conspiratorially, and she laughs. Druk grumbles his approval from the balcony, and Zuko grins. “But you might have to fight Toph for that title first.”

Katara snorts. “Hell no,” she says. “I’ll take a brawl with your ministers anyday than go head to head with her,” and that pulls a laugh from Zuko, the deep ringing of his amusement like a song to her ears. She missed this about him, this easy back and forth, the serenity he brings to her soul. This is what she missed while he was gone. His easy presence, his warmth, his friendship. Him.

Zuko looks at her, and the warmth spreads. “It’s good to be back,” he whispers, and takes her hand. “I missed you.”

She looks down at their laced fingers. “I missed you too.”

There’s a heartbeat, and then, “Oh spirits, Zuko, where is Druk going to sleep?” Then there’s laughter, followed by a rumbling growl, and there’s lightness in Katara’s soul and no whispers to be found.

~0~

The bright glow of the water soothes Katara in a similar way it does to her patient. Like a calm, cool wave that settles the burn of flames, Katara feels the ache in her chest lessen and the whispers recede. The clarity of the healing session allows her to feel marginally better, and she further concentrates to alleviate the pain of the soldier below her. He’s been complaining all night of a phantom pain in the place where his leg was, now a useless stump. The grievous wound has long since healed, but Katara can sense the disrupted flow of chi in his veins, the confusion of his blood as it tries to travel to a place that is no longer there. While she desperately wishes for a way to bring his limb back, she knows there’s nothing she can do but apply cool water to the area, reducing inflammation and mitigating the irritation.

"Thank you, Master Katara," the soldier croaks. He's a young man- just barely out of childhood really- and now he's going to spend the rest of his life a cripple. But he doesn't seem phased by it, and he looks up at her with nothing but gratitude in his eyes. Katara gulps down the wave of _Fire Nation scum_ and smiles. 

The next patient is not as forthcoming. She hisses “ _Water Tribe filth_ ” and a whole slew of derogatory names before Katara leaves. The woman is not critically wounded, just an infected stab wound that is slowly healing, so she passes the patient off to a nurse before moving on. She encounters two more patients with a similar reaction before she comes to one of her favorites.

“Hello, Kai,” she says as she enters the room. There’s a young man lying on the bed, propped up with pillows, and he turns his head towards her. There’s a blindfold over his eyes, and Katara can see the veiny scars even from this distance. 

“Master Katara, I’m glad you’ve come back,” the soldier says, reaching out a shaky, bandaged hand. Katara reaches out, taking his hand while sitting down on the mattress. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well, Kai,” she says. “It’s good to see you. How do you feel?”

He shrugs. “Okay, I suppose,” he says. “I’ve been having a hard time sleeping, but I think that’s just me adjusting to this perpetual night I’m stuck in.”

_Poor Kai,_ she thinks, summoning some water to her hands. He’d been wounded in the final battle at Ba Sing Se by Pakku’s ice, which accidentally set off some Fire Nation bombs close to where Kai had been standing. Several firebenders had been killed in the blast, and Kai himself had been far enough where he hadn’t been crushed, but the intense heat and the exploding debris had blinded him in the process. 

“I’m going to place my hands on your temples,” she told him, and he nodded. “Hopefully that’ll release some of the tension and help your chi settle.” Her time at the healing huts in the north pole has certainly paid off, and she finds healing unbalanced chi paths is as intrinsic in her blood as it is to turn a water whip into an ice spear. Blindness is an easy chi disruption to fix. Humans are so used to seeing light for twelve hours and darkness the other twelve, that when blindness occurs, the chi doesn’t know how to flow in constant darkness, and the body suffers. All it takes is a few minutes of healing, letting the water redraw the chi’s path to compensate for the lack of sight, and the unbalance in the body is righted. Katara remembers this information as easily as breathing, and pulls from it as she places her hands on Kai’s temples, letting the water bathe over him.

They sit in silence while Katara works, brows knitted in concentration. “Say, Master Katara,” Kai says. “What is a master waterbender like you still doing here in the Fire Nation?”

Katara shrugs. “Zuko still needs my help,” she begins, letting her healing water flow into his brain and reduce the inflamed chi imprisoned around his forehead. “I’m also here serving as the in between for my father and Chief Arnook from the North. If there’s anything the Water Tribes need, I can go ahead and request it on their behalf.”

She drops her hands away from Kai’s face. “Plus, this hospital is one of my favorite places to be. I need to be where I’m useful, and here, I can help anyone who needs my help.”

Kai frowns. “Even if some of them are ungrateful?” That makes her pause, and she frowns, staring at him even if he can’t see her. “I know that some of the soldiers here are still stuck in the war,” he says carefully. “And I know several of them still treat you poorly, still call you an outsider.”

She sighs. “That’s what I am,” she points out. “A Water Tribe peasant who has wormed her way into the palace and whispers poison in the Fire Lord’s ear.”

Kai shakes his head. “They have no idea what they’re talking about,” he says. “I know what the Fire Nation did to the tribes- the Northern Invasion, the decimation of the South. I would say you have every right to treat us like dirt, because we are. But you haven’t, Master Katara. You never fight back, you never hurt back. You treated me with dignity and kindness, when you could have spit in my face. I admire you.”

She blushes. “Thank you, Kai,” she whispers. “Not too many do.”  
  
He grins, and reaches out, fumbling until he finds her hand, and squeezes. “They should,” he says. “And they will come around, I can promise you that. The Fire Nation may be stubborn, but there are those who already speak of your kindness and your passion. Some say you’ll rule the nation soon.”

Silence. Katara lets his words soak in, the blood rushing to her face, before she manages a very uncharacteristic squeak. “What?”

He laughs. “Are the rumors true then?” he asks. “Or do I still have a chance?”

She shakes her head quickly. “No, no, it’s not like that,” she stammers. “Zuko and I, we’re, I mean, he and I-”

Kai chuckles. “Relax, Master Katara,” he says. “I was simply joking. On both parts. I know how dedicated you are to restoring and maintaining the peace, first and foremost.”

She sighs. “You’re cruel, Kai,” she says, pulling another chuckle from him. She stands, smoothing out her dress. “With an attitude like that, you’ll be out of here in no time. Now rest, I think I managed to soothe your chi enough for you to get some sleep.”

Kai grins, then leans back against the pillows as she turns to leave. “Thank you, Master Katara,” he calls out to her. “For everything you’ve done, for me, for the Fire Nation, and for Firelord Zuko. He needs someone like you by his side. Remember that.”

His words follow her as she leaves, and she ponders the sentiment. There are rumors circulating of her and Zuko, romantically entangled. She wonders what Sokka would say.

_Ok, but does he have enough meat to support you?_

Suki? _I think it’s sweet. You guys have always balanced each other out._

Toph? _Pay up Snoozles, I knew this would happen!_

Aang? _Fuck_ , she thinks. She doesn’t want to know what Aang would say. 

She finds herself outside a plain door, four firebenders standing guard outside. She looks over at the one to the right. “Captain Mako,” she says, and he inclines his head towards her. “How is she?”

The captain shakes his head. “The same as ever, I’m afraid. Would you like to enter?” She nods in affirmation, and the captain unlocks the door, letting her inside.

It’s sparsely decorated, and painted white. Sokka and Suki did a wonderful job redecorating the highest floor to meet the permanent residents’ needs, and the large space is immaculate. There’s a large, pristine bed in the corner, a wardrobe, and a window on the other side that faces the courtyard. A low table is situated next to the window, and a loveseat, on which Katara’s last patient sits.

“Azula,” Katara says, and the fire princess does not raise her head, does not acknowledge Katara’s presence. She sighs and walks over, sinking onto the chair next to the couch and stares at the princess, eyebrows furrowed critically as she takes in Azula’s appearance.

The war was not kind to Azula. Katara likes to think that she can hold back the tsunami of darkness that threatens to overwhelm her everyday. She has Zuko and Uncle Iroh to talk to when her thoughts get especially dark, and she has Kai and some of the other patients to brighten her day. But Azula? This is what it looks like when the darkness wins- when you get overwhelmed by the cruelty war brings and the suffering of others finally weighs you down. Azula’s hair is stringy and dull, her face haggard and skeletal, and her eyes are sunken in, lifeless.

Zuko refuses to visit Azula. He’s only seen her once, on the day they moved her here, but hasn’t been back since. Katara knows he still feels guilty, is still unsure if he made the right decision to try and fix her. Katara’s heart goes out to him- she doesn’t know if healing Azula will mend the broken bond between the siblings. But she thinks about Zuko standing in Ursa’s garden, pleading for the life of the little sister he’d always loved, even when she became a monster, and she thinks about how he sits in his office, looking through the healers’ reports on Azula’s mental state, and she wants, she _needs_ to quell the unease in his heart. If she can help Azula, she can help Zuko. She made a promise.

“Look at what this war has done to us,” Katara murmurs, folding her hands in her lap. “Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever recover from what happened to us, from the scars we bear. Do you think so?”

Azula doesn’t blink. Katara sighs. “I almost feel bad for you,” she confesses. “Watching you in those last moments, seeing you sob for your mother and cry out for your brother, it reminded me of when I lost my mother. She was killed in a Fire Nation raid. Yon Rha sent a fire blast right through her heart.”

She closes her eyes. “I found him, you know,” she whispers. “Zuko helped me find him. We cornered him right outside his stupid village, and I ws going to put an ice dagger through his heart. I was going to, but then, I couldn’t. I took one look into his sad, unhappy soul, and just couldn’t bring myself to do it. You would think, after the many soldiers I killed so Aang could live, I could kill the one person I longed to kill, the one person who took the person I loved from me.”

She opens her eyes and meets Azula’s dead gaze. “But it’s the same with you,” she breathes, and there’s the darkness again, rising in the corner of her vision and looming over her in the shape of Yon Rha. “I wanted to kill you too. You nearly killed Zuko, you put a lightning bolt through his heart and _liked_ it. I wanted to kill you, for taking Zuko away from me. But I couldn’t. I looked into your eyes and saw the same sadness I saw before, and couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

She looks away. “Zuko’s alive today because of me,” she says. “And so are you.”

There’s movement, and Katara’s head whips around. Azula’s lifted her head, barely an inch, but it’s more than Katara’s seen in the months since her imprisonment. There’s nothing in Azula’s eyes, but _something_ all the same. Her mouth opens a crack, but no sound comes out.

Katara frowns. She stands up, moves towards the fire princess, but nothing happens. Hesitantly, she leans down, bending water to her fingertips and touching the girl’s temples. She can sense whorls and tangles of chi in Azula’s head, which isn’t surprising, but there’s also a pulsing beat that wasn't there before. It writhes in Katara’s grip, but doesn’t budge, and sweat breaks out on her forehead. 

Gasping, Katara pulls away. Azula sits there motionless, but Katara can tell something’s changed within the fire princess. She narrows her eyes. Regular healing won’t work, but she doesn’t have time to petition Arnook for some spirit water. Asking Aang for spiritbending help is out of the question, and if she were to ask Toph, the earthbender’s solution would be to whop Azula over the head with a boulder.

She narrows her eyes. There’s one thing she could try, but the very idea of using it again frightens her. She hates the way it makes her feel, the sickening sense of blood under her fingers, the will of a person breaking under hers, the darkness that threatens to drown her in her own thoughts. The last time she did this, she hadn’t slept for weeks, and the looks Aang gave her once he found out made her want to scrub her skin raw. Even Sokka, who supported her on everything, was tentative with her, and she caught him tiptoeing around her for days afterwards. 

She thinks about Zuko, who was witness to her bloodbending when she was at her lowest point, where there was no honor, just a lust for revenge. She remembers the surprise in his eyes, but also remembers the lack of disgust on his face, the surprising cool he held afterwards once she told him about it. She remembers _You’re a warrior and a healer, and you always seek to help, not destroy._ The warmth in his eyes, the way he pulled her into a hug afterwards, the whispers of _pure-healing heart_ circulating in her veins, and the darkness falters. 

She opens her eyes, and focuses on Azula. She reaches out, hand twisting, and pulls hard on the mass inside Azula’s head. The girl’s body twitches as Katara takes control, and she can feel all of Azula’s emotions- the pain, the confusion, the hurt, the anger. She can see Zuko’s face, twisted and pained, and Azula’s own pain mixed in. She can feel the princess’ hurt upon realizing her mother is dead and her father used her as a pawn. There is so much emotion curled up within the girl’s body, and it’s eating her alive. Katara grits her teeth and finds the knot of emotion and chi bound up within Azula’s brain. She thinks about a little girl with amber eyes, following her older brother around, a little girl who lost a mother and found a monster for a father. Katara builds up all the anger and hatred she’s ever felt, grips the bundle _hard_ , and pulls.

It shatters, and Katara pulls back, gasping and letting go of her hold on Azula. She blinks, coughing and struggling from under the weight of the other girl’s emotions. She can’t tell what’s hers and what’s Azula’s, so she puts a hand to her chest and tries to focus on the staggering beat of her own heart, forcing herself to take deep, shuddering breaths until it settles back to an even rhythm. Only then does she look up, meeting the gaze of Azula.

The other girl blinks. Once, twice. Then her chest heaves, and she gasps. 

“Zu-Zu.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:  
> \- #BLM (you all know which scene I'm talking about)  
> \- yes, Katara is a BAMF! and I fully embraced that in this chapter  
> \- I plan on writing something that focuses on Zuko and Druk, and how Zuko finds that. Just not rn. This fic takes priority  
> \- Hope I did Iroh's wise wisdom some justice.  
> \- we see some bloodbending-ish action here. Be prepared for an onslaught of it in future chaps.
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. This was probably my favorite to write, and I reaaaaally love delving into Katara's psyche. Please let me know what you think. I personally have a few favorite moments and lines in this chapter, let's see if we have the same ones.
> 
> Pros to commenting: you get to shout at me and I will absolutely shout back. Plus, it's a great opportunity to beat me up for everything in this story so far (good and bad). Plus it'll make me happy, even if it's constructive criticism- which I adore
> 
> cons: uhhhh MarkedMage.exe has stopped working
> 
> Yell at me on tumblr too: @markedmage


	3. i don't wanna sleep (please wake the moonlight)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Because I saw the look in Zuko’s eyes. I saw how sad he was at the thought of losing another family member. I know what that feels like, to love and lose someone to this war. I wasn’t going to put him through that pain again.”
> 
> Azula’s eyes soften. “Ah,” she says, as if she’s got all the clarity in the world. “There it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note the M rating

_ ~  _ _ Your companionship in this storm is like the hope of the universe  _ _ ~ _

_ Stand By Me | WayV _

~0~

Spring comes to the Fire Nation like a southern wind, soft and gentle, bringing with it new beginnings and a taste for change. It comes in the form of baby turtleducks, venturing out into the pond water for the first time since hatching, in the shape of cherry blossom blooms peeking out along the branches of the trees. It comes in the form of a piece of parchment in Katara’s hands, bringing with it the scrabble of Sokka’s hand and the smell of the sea. 

_ Hi lil sis _ , it reads, and Katara’s hand grips the parchment, the paper crumpling under her fingers.  _ I miss you more than you can possibly imagine.  _

_ Suki and I arrived at the South Pole at the end of winter, and have been here for a little over a week now. Things have changed, lil sis, we actually have a city here. There's so much to do, so much to see. I can really picture a life for us down here Katara, I really do. Dad's already teaching me some of the Chief's duties for when I eventually take over, and Suki and Gran-Gran have taken so we'll to each other. _

_ I should also probably mention that I carved Suki a betrothal necklace. I figured it was high time, between dad's, Gran-Gran's, Pakku's nudging. She said yes. We plan to get married next Autumn, so I hope you'll be there when it happens (aka you better). _

_ I wanna tell you that Aang's doing better. Last I heard, he was traveling through the Earth Kingdom, helping out some of the harder hit villages. I guess your hospital work really paid off, Aang says he's never seen such love for the Water Tribe like this. He says he's proud of you, even if he isn't ready to talk. _

_ By the way, what's going on with you and Zuko? We're starting to get rumors of the two of you here at the South Pole, and let me tell you, Dad is not amused. Pakku wants to commit murder, and I'm seriously considering it myself. Seriously, what's actually going on? Are you and Lord Hotpants actually a thing? (Also please say no, because then I'd owe Toph like, fifty gold pieces if it were true). _

_ I love you, lil sis. Mom would be proud of you. _

_ Love, _

_ Sokka _

Katara sighs. While she's so incredibly happy that Sokka's proposed, there's a little part of her that wishes for the same happiness. But there's too much turmoil in her heart, and she's not sure if she can even reach that level of contentment. Not yet away. She's got a lot to do before she can even begin to tackle her own happiness.

There's a knock on her door. Raising her head, she quickly hides Sokka's letter in the pocket of her skirts. "Come in," she says, and a young serving girl meekly opens the door.

"Master Katara," she says, eyes averted. "Firelord Zuko is requesting your presence in his office. If it would please you, I'd be happy to walk you there myself."

Katara smiles and stands. "Of course," she says, and follows the girl down the hall. While they walk, Katara makes note of the liveliness of the palace- the guards are chipper and the servants and running around with renewed energy. Katara narrows her eyes. "Excuse me," she says to the serving girl. "But what's going on? The palace seems a lot busier than normal."

The girl offers her a quiet smile. "It's tradition that the palace leads the nation into the celebration of the new season," she says. She gestures around to the servants hastily cleaning everything in sight. "Especially this spring, the season of new hope, after the end of the war. The nation is incredibly excited to welcome this season of new beginnings."

Katara frowns. "What do you mean by 'celebration'?"

"The spring festival, of course!" The girl replies, but before Katara can say much more, she stops before Zuko's door. "My lady," the girl murmurs, and backs away. Katara watches her go, then turns and knocks on the door. 

She pushes it open, not bothering to wait for Zuko's response. She finds him sitting behind his desk, crown adorning his scalp, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment that looks like it's seen better days. When she enters, he looks up, his eyes bright and excited, and it fills Katara with warmth.

"Katara!" He exclaims, jumping up from behind his desk and scrambling towards her. His robes are disheveled, but the wild glimmer in his eyes is enough to make Katara's blood jump with suspense. "I'm glad you're here! I've finished it."

She blinks. "Um," she starts, and her eyes wander towards his desk. There are scrolls and scrolls of what appears to be Fire Nation law scrolls scattered across the surface.  _ Tui and La  _ she can only guess.

He laughs. "The plans for my school!" He preens, reaching over and grabbing his scrolls, showing her what looks to be a blueprint. "I want to put it in the poorer districts, which means that area will get more commerce and traffic, plus those kids can get any education that they could possibly dream of. It's going to cost a lot of money, but I think with your help, we can get the ministers to budge."

She coughs. " Wow," she says, taking his scrolls and looking over his notes. The idea is spot on, the building will be taken from one of the abandoned warehouses and refurbished to meet the classroom needs. That'll help cover a lot of the costs, and they won't actually have to build the schoolhouse from the foundation up. "What about the teachers?" She asks. "You've got a couple of candidates I see, but what about some bending teachers?"

He smiles. "I've already sent a message to Piandao and Jeong-Jeong," he says. "Piandao is happy to teach swordsmanship as long as it's only three times a week, and Jeong-Jeong is willing as long as the bending students can dedicate their training to after school activities."

His chest puffs out with obvious pride, and Katara is impressed. "Wow," she begins, rolling the scroll up. "I have to admit, Zuko, this idea is flawless. I don't think I could have come up with a better plan."

He grins, but his eyes are soft. "Yes," he says, stepping forward. He reaches forward and takes her hand, squeezing softly. "You would have, I know you. And trust me, I would have accepted it in a heartbeat."

She coughs and looks away. "Really," he says, misreading her silence for disbelief (when all it is is Katara simply trying to steady her racing heart). "You're the smartest, most amazing person I know, Katara. I take everything you say to heart- honestly I refuse to believe anyone who isn't you."

There’s something in Zuko’s tone, something she can’t quite place. She finds herself getting lost in his gaze once more, and the sincerity that drips off him makes her mouth dry and her heartbeat race. She clears her throat, and Zuko blinks, his face turning red.

“What’s the spring festival?” she asks, quickly changing the subject. He shakes his head, comes over to stand by her. 

“Oh,” he says, scratching his jaw. “The palace is supposed to throw one each year, within the first few weeks of spring. I was planning on holding it in the next few days.” He squints at her. “Did you not know?”

She groans. “Of course not,” she says. “What am I supposed to wear?”

He sighs. “I can have the palace tailor sent to your rooms tomorrow, if you’d like,” he says, and she nods vehemently. He grins. “Alright, then, that’s solved.”

She sighs, and turns. “Anything else you wanted to discuss with me, your highness?” she asks. She looks over her shoulder at him, seeing him frowning towards the floor. She blinks, looking down, and spies Sokka’s letter. She reaches for her pocket.  _ Damnit. _

Zuko picks it up, and turns towards her. If it were Aang in his place, the airbender might’ve ripped it open and read it without Katara’s permission, but this is Zuko, and he simply hands it to her. “Sokka?” he asks, but doesn’t pry further. Not if she wants him to.

She nods, taking the slip of paper. “Yes,” she says. She meets his soft gaze, and finds herself spilling everything. “Sokka and Suki are getting married,” she says. “Sometime next year.”

He sucks in a breath. “Wow,” he says. “That’s just- wow.”   


“I know.”

He looks at her. “You’re not sure how you feel about it,” he says, and Katara wishes he didn’t know how to read her so much. She sighs, dropping down to the floor and putting her head in her hands. 

“Of course I’m happy for him,” she says, and she feels Zuko cautiously sit down next to her. They must look strange, the waterbender and the Firelord, curled up on the floor of his office, rather than the plush chairs, but propriety be damned. “I love Suki with all my heart, and of course I want Sokka to marry her. It’s just-”

“-Just that it’s easy for Sokka and Suki to move forward with their lives, but we somehow struggle to do the same?” Zuko says, and she blinks, looking up at him. He’s got a wry smile on his face, and he reaches out, taking her hand.

“How do you do that?” she asks. “How is it that you know exactly it is how I’m feeling, even if I don’t even know how to say it.”

He shrugs. “Katara, you and I both know what war can do to people,” he says. He turns his dark gaze on her. “But we make it through, one day at a time. And I’m always here for you, no matter what.”

She sighs. “I know I’m doing better than what I was before,” she begins. “When the war had just ended, when Aang and Sokka and Toph were still here, when I still had nightmares, I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it through. But then you helped, and Uncle Iroh, and the hospital, and I guess everything feels just a little less lonely.”

“The whispers?”

She shakes her head. “Still there. I don’t think they’ll ever leave. But they don’t drown everything else out like they used to.” She glances at him. “What about you?”

The smile he sends her is soft. “Better,” he whispers. “It’s good to have people who understand.”

His hand squeezes hers. “It’s okay to feel conflicted,” he says. 

She sighs. “Do you think we’ll ever get there?” she asks, gesturing to Sokka’s letter. “Do you think we can ever get as happy as they are?”

His lips purse, and his eyes search hers. “I have faith,” he says. “I have faith in you.”

She’s not quite sure how to respond, and when she leaves, there’s a fluttering in her chest and the burn of his gaze seared into her mind, and she feels a shiver up her spine as his words float around in her mind. 

It almost feels like a promise.

~0~

“What do you think of Azula?” she asks, wheeling Kai down the hall to the courtyard. He cocks his head, lips pursed, and turns his chin in her direction.

“The princess?” he says, and Katara nods, catching herself at the last minute and giving him her affirmation. He frowns, scratching his temple. “I don’t know,” he says after a moment. “I never actually met her before the end of the war, and up until very recently, she wasn’t very vocal to anyone. Not that she ever left her room.”   


Katara sighs, stepping out into the sunlight. There are a few other patients and nurses scattered about, but she and Kai have plenty of space. The grass is green, and Katara inhales the delicate aromas of fresh flowers and breathes in the sweet air. She settles Kai under a cherry blossom tree and tries not to think of Zuko waiting under theirs in Ursa’s garden, dreaming of a sister who can never come home.

“When I was younger,” Kai says, and Katara turns her full attention on him. “The Crown Prince and the Fire Princess were all but rumors to the middle and lower class of Caldera City. Myths, basically, living high up in the towers of the palace. They said that their mother was an angel, their father a prodigy, and that they themselves were blessed from Agni.” Kai sighs. “I heard the princess was a legend at firebending, and her brother was extremely skilled with his blades. Then their mother disappeared, and Ozai took the throne, and everything I heard about them seemed to disappear. Firelord Zuko was banished as a coward and traitor, and Princess Azula became the heir apparent. Stories of her cruelty and darkness became widespread, and soon, everyone, benders and non-benders alike feared her.”

Katara frowns. That sounds exactly like the Azula she met, the Azula she battled. But Kai smiles softly, “I don’t think it was her fault though,” he whispers, and Katara startles. “If it was anyone’s fault, it was Ozai’s. Everyone in the army feared him, save for a few of his closest generals. But the rest of us? We thought he was mad. And he really was- after he lost and the truth came out, I realized that maybe Azula, as bad as she was, was not the one to be at fault. Her father turned her into a monster.”   


Katara hugs her arms close to herself. “But what if she was?” she asks quietly. “A monster, that is. What if the darkness was already in her before Ozai influenced her?”

_ What if the darkness was already in me? _

Kai shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he says. “Look at the family. Lady Ursa was kind, General Iroh is the best of us. Commander Lu Ten was a gentle warrior, always trying to promote peace, not war. And even Firelord Zuko, our leader who helped save the world and establish world peace. Ozai was the demon in the family, and he poisoned princess Azula when she was the last one left standing. It makes sense that she too, would be pushed into madness with no one there to help her.”

_ Ozai scarred my face, but Azula? He scarred her soul. _

Kai turns his head towards her. "I know what you're thinking," he says. Her eyes slide towards him, and she knows he can feel her gaze on him. He grins. "You're wondering if she deserves forgiveness."

She shakes her head vehemently. "No," she declares. "Azula doesn't deserve forgiveness, least of all mine."

Kai chuckles. "You don't mean that," he says, and her shoulders sag.

" I just- Ugh, Kai, it's complicated." She digs her hands in her scalp. "She nearly killed me, nearly killed Zuko. I held his life in my hands, had to repair his destroyed chest, and she was laughing. But she was destroyed once the fight was over, and she was crying and sobbing and calling for her brother, and I don't know anything anymore."

Kai props his head on his hand, and if it weren't for the blindfold, she bets his brows would be raised. "But?" He whispers.

She sighs. "Just watching her, sit in that room for  _ months,  _ no visitors, not even Zuko coming to her, just rotting away. I had to do something."

"So you bloodbent her," Kai says, and Katara sighs. Months of healing Kai had most certainly led to friendship, for that Katara is grateful. But these months enjoying his company has also led to her with a loose mouth, and sometimes she regrets telling him so much. But there's no judgement in his voice, his blood isn't racing, and his body shows no sign of fight or flee. He smiles, gently. "I think it's good of you to put such a skill to a better use," he says. "And for the record, I think the princess Azula does deserve forgiveness. I mean, if you didn't think that either, you wouldn't have healed her in the first place."

She freezes, her blood stilling. "What?" She whispers. 

"Katara," he says. "You've given everyone who's ever wronged you a second chance. Look at Zuko. He betrayed you at Ba Sing Se, and now the two of you rule the Fire Nation."

She ignores his implication. "I didn't give Yon Rha a second chance," she says. "I tortured him and left him to rot on his island."

Kai raises a hand. " Ah," he says. "But you did. You gave him a second chance by letting him live."

She sighs, and he leans forward, groping for her hand until she gives it to him. There's a strangeness to holding his hand, his fingers looking slight  _ wrong _ entwined with hers. "Katara, I know you've told me about how the war killed a part of you," he whispers. He cups her cheek with his hand, raising it so she's looking at his face. The blindfold, of course, prevents her from meeting his gaze, but she knows that if he were still able to see, there would be love and compassion reflected back at her. "But I don't think so. I think the war has made you stronger and harder, a warrior and a healer. Your hands, Katara," he squeezes her hand, and she smiles. "You do not have the hands of a killer. You have the hands of a miracle worker. Always remember that."

She ponders this as she makes her way to Azula’s room. Captain Mako greets her, as succinct as always, and lets her in.

Azula is in her usual spot by the window, but this time, her eyes are alert and she’s sipping from a cup of tea when Katara enters. The princess does not rise, does not greet her, but her sharp eyes do not leave Katara’s, not even when the waterbender has taken her ritual spot across the table. 

“Waterbender,” Azula says.

“Azula,” Katara replies.

It’s been weeks since Katara pulled Azula out from the abyss of her mind. The princess is much the same as she used to be, calculating and aloof, but there’s a certain sadness hovering about her that continues to draw Katara back to her.

“Where is he?” 

Katara blinks. It’s the same thing every week. Azula asking for Zuko, Zuko is too  _ something _ \- not scared, not angry, not excited- to come. And so it’s just Katara, coming to visit the girl who would’ve had her killed.

“Not here,” she murmurs, and a little bit of the light in Azula’s eyes dims.

They’re quiet for a bit, Azula sipping her tea and Katara staring off out the window. Finally, Azula finishes her tea and clinks her cup down, startling Katara from her reverie. She blinks, turning to look at the Fire Princess, who’s staring steadily back. “Do you see them too?” the princess asks.

Katara stares. “Who?” she asks numbly.

Azula scoffs. “The people you killed,” she says, making Katara’s blood run cold. “Do you see them in your dreams?”

Katara pauses. She’s definitely not sure if she wants to tell Azula about her monsters, about the darkness that plagues her, and Kai’s words of forgiveness hover in her soul. She looks at Azula, and can see the same shadows lingering in her eyes. They reflect the ones in Katara’s soul.

She sighs. “Sometimes,” she whispers. “Most of the time, I just feel the leftovers from the war hovering around, following me everywhere I go.”

Something in Azula’s gaze softens. “Go on,” she says, in a very soft voice.

Katara sighs. “Aang and Sokka would never understand,” she begins. “They’re too carefree, too lighthearted to really carry any scars from the war. The darkness seems to roll off them. Sokka, at least, did kill some men during your father’s conquest, but their deaths don’t plague him. Aang never killed,  _ couldn’t  _ kill for the life of him. But me? I feel like I became a master of death out there, and the war refuses to leave me even after we won. I don’t know, I just can’t seem to get my head off the battlefield.”

Azula’s quiet. “I understand,” she says. “The darkness, at least. It seeps into your bones and clogs your mind, whispering in your ear and making you catch your breath.” Katara jerks, meeting the princess’ almost sorrowful gaze. “Before my father became Firelord, Zu-Zu and I were close, as close as siblings could be. You understand.”

Katara nods, thinking of Sokka, with the wind at his feet and the blades in his hands. “But Ozai always pushed us, way harder than he should. When he realized that Zu-Zu wasn’t going to be the prodigy our father wanted him to be, he turned his attention to me. Ozai was a deranged man, but pleasing him brought me pride and compliments. With Zuko, it brought punishment and disgrace. So I fought hard, and worked harder, to make myself into a warrior Ozai would love, and wouldn’t punish.” Azula’s eyes soften. “I deluded myself into thinking that killing for my father meant I earned his love and respect, when all it really meant was saving me from punishment. I left that to my brother.”

Katara’ heart hardens. “Your brother loved you with everything he had,” she hisses. “Even after his Uncle told him to take the throne, Zuko was beside himself trying to come up with ways to defeat you without hurting you. Even after you shot him full of lightning, he only wanted to help you. Others would have left you to rot.”

“Like you?”

Katara’s mouth snaps shut. Azula’s gaze isn’t fierce, isn’t the glare of a lion-vulture going in for the kill. The princess’ gaze is curious, sad even. Katara frowns. “I wanted to, at first,” she confesses. Azula’s gaze does not waver, and she does not show any flicker in her emotions, and so Katara continues. “You were going to  _ kill _ me, Azula. You almost killed your brother. You hunted my friends and I across the Earth Kingdom. I would have had every right to leave you to rot in the dungeons.”   


“So why didn’t you?”   


“Because I saw the look in Zuko’s eyes. I saw how sad he was at the thought of losing another family member. I know what that feels like, to love and lose someone to this war. I wasn’t going to put him through that pain again.”

Azula’s eyes soften. “Ah,” she says, as if she’s got all the clarity in the world. “There it is.”   
  
Katara frowns. “What?!” she snaps angrily, and feels water condensing at her fingertips. Azula smiles, a genuine, little smile that throws her off. 

“If you can’t see it for yourself,” Azula begins, the moment wearing off. She picks at her fingernails with distaste, avoiding Katara’s eyes. “Then there is no use trying to explain it to you now. You’ll figure it out, soon enough, little waterbender.”

Katara fumes. “Fine,” she hisses, rising to her feet. “See if I care.” She turns and storms away, and Azula’s laughter follows her to the door.

“Just think, little waterbender,” Azula calls out. “You and my brother have a lot more in common than you think. Ponder that- you may as well be each other’s salvation.”

~0~

The spring festival is Katara's favorite event in the wake of the war. This is even better than Zuko's coronation, where the ice wine and fire whiskey flowed better than the blood in her veins, better than when the northern healers arrived to run her hospitals, better than the day she realized she could use bloodbending to heal, not hurt.

The palace servants are allowed in attendance. This is something the Ministers would have never agreed to, she realizes, taking a sip of her ice wine. This has Zuko written all over it, and she wonders what he had to do in order to make the Ministers relent. Budget cuts, she’d guess, but tonight, none of that matters. For once the nobles and the servants mingle, and the taste of ice wine on Katara's lips have her spirits lifted higher than they've been in a while. She’s met with the guards Rin and Haku, met their lovers Hani and Yeri. She finds the serving girl who brought her to Zuko's office, and her name is Saya, and she tells Katara that her eyes are bluer than the ocean and her hair smells like a fresh mountain breeze. 

She steers clear of the nobles. The bloodlust that runs in her veins hasn't stirred for some time, and she'd like it to stay that way.

Ty Lee is back, having returned from Kyoshi to join in on the festivities. Katara is wary for a few moments- the girl who can take bending away still draws up the instincts of fear deep within her, but Ty Lee hugs her with the passion of a thousand Appas, and she finds herself relaxing with the acrobat.

"Katara, oh my gosh, you look stunning!"

Katara blushes. She's grateful for the palace seamstress, the handiwork of the last-minute dress is sublime. The collar hugs her throat and arches over her shoulders, with arctic wolves seen into the stiching. The collar opens up at her neck, and it cuts down low over her chest and flows down her body, draping her in the blues and silvers of her people. She's painted her face silver, lining her eyes and lips in shimmer, and a silver moon pin rests in her topknot, tying her hair in place. Her mother's necklace rests proudly in the crook of her throat.

"Thank you," she says, and Ty Lee giggles, crooking her arm through Katara's. The easy companionship she finds with the acrobat is surprising- the girl has almost killed her on quite a few occasions, but there's something in Ty Lee's demeanor that calms Katara's blood. 

"Have you seen Zuko yet?" Ty Lee says, wiggling her brows. Katara blushes.

"No," she says, turning her eyes away and hoping the acrobat doesn't notice. But apparently, Ty Lee is quite perceptive, and she squeals, latching onto Katara's shoulder.

"Spirits, Katara!" Ty Lee says, and Katara gives up on trying to contain her.  _ That girl is like the South wind _ , she thinks.  _ Warm and full of spirit.  _ "Zuko is gonna die when he sees you."

Katara frowns. "Well I hope not," she says. "That would defeat the purpose of us being here."

Ty Lee grins. "Oh that was a joke! You're funny, Katara."

In that moment, Katara thinks she would've said something witty along the lines of Ty Lee's perceptive capabilities (or lack thereof- apparently they only arise to certain occasions), when Zuko enters her line of vision.

The surrounding noise fades, almost as if Katara is suspended in a tunnel. The last time she felt like this, she was watching as he lit up with lightning racing in his soul and the cackle of Azula in her heart. It's a similar feeling, but not for the same cause. Zuko is not flying through the air with lightning in his palms, and she is not bending the tears from her eyes to try and save him.

Instead, Zuko is dressed in his most formal robes, deep ruby etched with delicate golden thread. They hang over his broad shoulders, accentuating his stature. The golden flame in his hair gleams, his hair shining in the candlelight like a raven's plumage. He doesn't look like the boy who captured lightning, who carried the Eternal Flame. He looks like the Firelord.

(There's a fluttering in her heart, like a tiger-butterfly flitting around within her. It warms her soul, breathing new life into her like a newborn sparrowkeet, and Katara clings to it, hanging onto the heat of his presence like a lifeline.)

And the Firelord turns and meets her gaze. Narrowed golden eyes suddenly become round like the sun, even his scarred eye stretching comically wide. His mouth drops a bit, jaw working as he takes her in, but then his training kicks in, and she can see him visibly compose himself. Beside her, Ty Lee giggles, and Katara briefly hears  _ oh boy he's got you now _ through the tunnel. Then Zuko's standing before her, and Katara is blinking in confusion.

"Katara," she hears him say, and she looks up, meets the flush on his cheeks and the happiness in his eyes. Ty Lee snickers and slips away. "You look, spirits, wow. Uhm," he says, rubbing the back of his head in that endearingly cute manner of his. "You look beautiful."

She slams down on the fluttering in her heart, ignoring the pounding rhythm in her chest. There's heat on her cheeks, however, that she can do nothing about. Still, she refuses to relinquish control on the things she still can. "Thank you, Lord Zuko," she says, in her most formal voice.

Zuko frowns. "Katara," he says, and she meets his eyes once more. "Please, never speak like that to me. You, of all people, should never have to. You and I, we're friends."

The pounding in her heart cries out to more than just  _ friends _ , but she can't deal with that right now. 

(How can you be just friends with someone who's saved your life, who's seen the darkness in your own soul reflected in theirs? How can you be just  _ friends _ with someone who guides you through your own woes of war and still sees the good in you, the way no one else can?

How can you be just friends with someone who plays to the melody of your own heart?)

His hand comes to clasp hers. "Never," he says, and his tone is like firewhiskey over her skin. "Think of me as one of these other nobles. You are, and always will be, my equal.”

His equal. Not a peasant, not a commoner. Not just a girl who's place is at the home, not a shiny girlfriend by the Avatar's side. The Firelord's- Zuko's- equal. The thought sends a thrill racing up her spine, and she smiles.

"Thanks, Zuko," she whispers, and the smile he sends her is blinding.

"Would you like to dance?" He asks, and she grins, accepting his hand. She can feel the eyes of noblewomen on her back, boring into her like shards of glass, but pays them no mind as Zuko sweeps her into the first dance of the night.

And then the second, and the third. They do not break for one moment, and she loses herself in the smoulder of his gaze, the heat of his hand at her back, and the burn of his gaze in her memories. His smile is like her armor, holding back the memories of war, drowning out any darkness with the intensity of his happiness.

By the end of the night, Katara's face hurts from smiling so much, and her feet are  _ killing  _ her. As tradition dictates, Zuko makes his way to the center of the crowd, but he doesn't let go of her hand, and so she finds herself in a sea of nobles, with Zuko protecting her back.

"People of the Fire Nation," Zuko says, and Katara turns her gaze on him. His eyes slide over to hers, and he smiles, before turning back to the audience. "Thank you all for coming. Today is a very special day. Today, we commemorate the first spring since the end of the war, a fitting way to bring in a time of peace and prosperity."

The crowd cheers. "We of the Fire Nation have always been a proud people," Zuko says. "We are people of the flames, children of Agni. My father once said a new world would be born from the ashes of Sozin's comet." Katara's heart stills. "And in a way, it has." Zuko turns to her, takes her hand, and her heart  _ slams _ in her chest. "This world was born anew," he says, eyes like twin suns. "We were reborn into a world where all the nations live in peace, where people from all over can come together without fear of oppression or hatred. And it is all thanks to this waterbender, Katara of the South Pole, right here."

Katara frowns, but the nobles clap. She turns and looks out over the crowd of people, clapping for  _ her _ , so different from what she used to receive. So different from the jabs of  _ water tribe peasant _ that it stings her gut in a pleasant way. They're celebrating  _ her. _

(Sokka would be proud.)

Zuko squeezes her hand. "This is the woman who freed the Avatar from the iceberg, and in doing so, set off the effect that would change the world forever. This is the woman who showed me a small ounce of kindness, when I did not deserve it, and continued to show it even after I'd betrayed her trust. Because this is in her nature, the ability to forgive and heal, to fight for the wellbeing of the world without hesitation. And this is the world I am prepared to defend, because we are people who will never give up on it." He's still looking at her, and she finds that she can't bring herself to look away from his burning gaze. "A wise friend told me that," he says softly. 

The clapping continues, but Katara drowns that out like white noise. The hand in hers squeezes once, twice, three times, and she blinks back tears. _Thank_ _you_ , she mouths, and he smiles.

He walks her back to her rooms once the celebration is over. His hand in hers is warm, comforting, supportive, and she finds herself clinging to it more the closer they get to her door. When they stop, she turns, and meets his dark gaze.

"Thank you," she breathes. The firewhiskey has made her loose, and she leans in, kissing him softly on the cheek. "You didn't have to."

The intake of breath is so subtle, but Katara lived for months on the run with him, and she senses it anyway. He looks down at her, eyes soft, and cups her face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Everyone gave Aang and I the credit," he says. "But without you, neither of us would be standing here today. I'd still be in exile, Aang would be frozen under the ocean, and Azula would be on the throne.  _ You _ saved the world, Katara. They deserve to know it."

She blinks. "I know," she says. She peers up at him through her lashes. "But you did it for me."

He smiles, soft, gentle, a smile that's only reserved for her. He leans in, pressing his lips against her forehead, and her heart flutters. "Always," he whispers, and pulls away.

She stares up at him. There's a tugging in her heart, and yearning, that  _ something _ again, and she's drawn to him, tucking herself into his chest, reaching to pull his head down-

"My Lord!" A voice says, and Katara jerks back. Zuko blinks, emotions rolling in his eyes, but turns towards the guard that has appeared down the end of the hall. 

"Yes?" He says, and Katara can see the veins popping in his neck. The guard bows, and tells them a few of the guests have become too inebriated to leave. Zuko sighs, and turns tired eyes towards Katara. "I'm sorry," he says. "But I should really go figure this out."

Katara blushes. "O-Of course!" She stammers, face turning beet red. "It's late, I should get to bed anyway!"

He rubs his head. "Yes, bed, right," he mumbles. He turns awkwardly, then turns back. "We should talk though...right?" He asks.

She gulps, ignoring the pounding drum of her heart and the burning questions in his eyes. Nodding dumbly, she watches as his eyes crinkle, and he turns and runs down the hallway. Only once he's gone does she run into her room and slam herself into her bed.

_ Fuck _ , she thinks. 

~0~

"I almost kissed your brother," she says, because apparently she has no filter and her only form of stress relief is talking to the girl who tried to kill her.

Azula blinks. "Well," she drawls, uncrossing her legs from the couch and raising a brow. "This is a very interesting twist to my incredibly eventful day.”

Katara sighs. “Ugh,” she moans. “Why am I even talking to you? I barely like you.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “I’m not too incredibly fond of you either,  _ waterbender _ . You’re the one who came traipsing into my room, not the other way around.”

Katara sighs. “I know,” she whispers. She throws her head into her hands. “I just, ugh, I have no idea what it is I’m feeling, and Zuko, he just-”

“-Basically declared his love for you in front of the entire Fire Nation nobility,” Azula interrupts. Katara gapes at her, and Azula leans back, head lolling like she’s got all the time in the world. “Word travels, rumors spread, but it makes sense. Zu-Zu’s always had a bit of a soft spot for being a romantic.”

Katara coughs. “Zuko doesn’t love me,” she says, but even then, it sounds less like an affirmation and more like a question. The look Azula sends her is enough to make a plant shrivel up and die.

“Please,” the princess scoffs. “My brother is so head over heels for you even a blind man could see it. Zu-Zu’s never been known for his subtlety.”

Katara groans. “What do I do about it?”   


Azula looks at her like she’s lost her mind. “Are you kidding me?” she says, and Katara sighs. “You’re coming to your arch nemesis for advice?”

Even Katara has to admit, it’s ridiculous.

Azula studies her for a moment, and Katara squirms under her gaze. It’s so different from Zuko’s, it’s almost astounding that they’re related. Zuko is a boy of fire, hotheaded and temperamental, but he's passionate and warm, with a drive for peace and a heart of gold. Azula? Katara thinks the princess of the Fire Nation is similar to a rainstorm: powerful and relentless, able to destroy you without you ever even realizing the damage before it's too late. Azula is like the winter squalls of her homeland: fierce and cold, deadly in her power and precise in her devastation.

“Listen, waterbender,” Azula says. “I don’t personally care for you, not in the slightest. But I care for my brother, despite whatever he may think of me. And my brother clearly has some feelings for you, and you him, so you better figure out what those are. Because my brother, at the end of the day, deserves to be happy.”

Katara blinks. “What?” Azula snaps. “I can be nice sometimes.” It makes Katara smile, and Azula frowns. “Shut up, waterbender,” she says. “And get out.”   


It’s the shortest time she’s ever spent at the hospital, and the shortest she’s ever spent with Azula. She doesn’t feel any clearer about anything, and would like to stay longer, but Zuko is not going to be happy she borrowed Druk to get advice from his crazed sister. Not that he ever needs to know.

“And Katara,” Azula calls as she goes to leave. Katara startles- it’s the first time she’s ever heard Azula say her name. She turns, and the look the princess is giving her is soft. “Tell Zu-Zu,” she says. “Tell him I’m happy for him.”

Katara doesn’t know what to say, so she just nods stiffly and lets the guards lead her back to the courtyard, where Druk waits. Luckily, when they get back, Zuko doesn’t fuss too much, and Katara is able to make it back to her rooms without being burnt to a crisp. 

There’s a letter waiting for her from Toph. She opens it, and the first words are so _Toph_ that Katara snorts into her palm.

_ Katara- _

_ Congratulations. Sparky is in love with you. Now tell Snoozles to pay up- he’ll listen to you. _

_ I’m coming back to the Fire Nation within the week. Sick and tired of Gaoling already. Don’t do anything stupid until I get there. _

_ Toph _

Short and succinct. Just like her. Katara chuckles, but her eyes land on the letter once more.  _ Sparky is in love with you. _

Zuko loves her? She thinks about all the time spent with him, the spars, the late night talks, the peace summits. She thinks about Zuko’s eyes on her, warm and soft, and the  _ something  _ that flutters within her chest when she sees him. 

_ My brother is so head over heels for you even a blind man could see it. _

~0~

“Toph should be here in a few days,” she informs Zuko over dinner. He sighs, setting aside his komodo chicken.

“Oh Agni,” he says. “We need to hide the firewhiskey.”

Katara bursts into laughter. “Zuko,” she says. “I tell you that Toph’s coming to visit, and your first thought is to hide the alcohol from her?”   


Zuko sends her a strained look. “Katara,” he says. “The last time she was here, she bled our stocks dry. I want to have a little left over so it doesn’t look like we’re alcoholics.”   


She snorts. “Oh, and letting her get it all won’t incriminate us at all, will it?” she points out, and he pauses, lips pursed.

“Fuck,” he says. She laughs and he runs his hands through his hair. “We really can’t win when it comes to her, can we?”

Katara sends him a pointed look. "Zuko," she says dryly, taking a sip of wine. "Toph is the cleverest, slyest, most ballsy one of us. No one can possibly defeat her, in a game of wits or otherwise. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't pick her to help you defeat Azula."

Zuko frowns. "What do you mean?" 

She sighs. "Come on, Zuko," she says. "Toph could have easily defeated your sister. You could've saved yourself a lot of trouble, saved yourself from the scar..." She trails off, eyes on his chest where his scar lay hidden behind silk. Zuko's quiet, but his eyes aren't, and she sees anger and hurt swimming in those golden depths.

"Katara," he says, and she doesn't think she's ever heard him so deathly quiet. "Why would you even say that?"

She averts her gaze. "I'm just saying," she whispers. "I did more harm than good- Toph would have been able to handle it better than I did."

"Toph didn't bring me back from the brink of death," Zuko snaps, rising to his feet. "Toph wasn't the first one to trust me, even when I didn't deserve it. And Toph wasn't the one who stayed here to help me run a country when you could've gone back home with your family."

Katara blinks. "Why won't you get it, Katara!" Zuko snarls, and she hasn't been on this side of his anger in a long time. It's surprising, and terrifying. "I chose you, because you're the only one who understands me, understands every part of my soul that the others can't see. You're the only one I trust to be by my side. Because you've never left me!"

It's quiet. Zuko's chest is heaving and Katara's chest is pounding. She stares up at him, eyes wide, and he starts, jaw going slack.

"Fuck, Katara," he says. He turns. "I'm sorry for my outburst. Please excuse me." He storms off before she can respond, disappearing in a whirl of robes and flames of anger, doors slamming shut.

Katara closes her eyes. "Fuck," she whispers, holding her head in her hands. She's done it again, pushed him too far for no reason. The darkness briefly rises in her again, but she furiously beats it down. It hasn't reared its ugly head in a while, and of course it chooses now, in a moment of weakness, to try and worm its way back into her thoughts.

Not bothering to finish her dinner, she gets up and walks back to her rooms. The hallways are quiet, leaving her alone in her thoughts. She thinks about Zuko, in all his fierce passion, telling her _ because you've never left me _ , and she thinks she’s a terrible person. Because the entire time, she only thought of herself, thought of how much of a burden she was, how she thought it was her fault he got her, and here he was relying on her to get him through.

She’s an idiot. Toph would be proud and punch her. Sokka would laugh.

She reaches her door. Once she enters, she throws herself down onto the mattress, letting out a heaving sigh. The moon is high in the sky, not quite full, and she feels the call of water at her fingertips. 

_ What would you do _ ? She asks Yue. But the moon is silent, and not even the Northern Princess can help Katara now. So she’s left with her fluttering heart and Zuko’s name on her lips, with the moon as a silent guardian above. Sleep doesn’t come easily, but she finally sinks into it as a cold, black wave washes over her.

It doesn't feel like it, but hours later, she’s woken from sleep by the tugging of the moon. It feels off somehow, urgent, demanding, refusing to let her relax. Groaning, she rolls over and sits up, rubbing her eyes and glaring up at Yue, about to demand for sleep, but goes still. The moon looks _ red _ , and Katara knows something’s wrong. 

The hairs on her arms rise, and she  _ dives _ , instinct screaming at her to move. There’s a whistling sound, and her pillows explode as a blade slams down where her head would be. Katara cries out, throwing herself off the bed and rolling onto the floor. She comes up crouching, spying the black hooded figure standing over her bed, a blade in hand. She narrows her eyes and roars, summoning water to her hands.

The figure lunges for her, and Katara rolls, ducking under his arm and whipping her hand out. The water comes to her like an old friend, and the blood in her  _ sings _ for war once more. The stranger groans and slashes through her water whip, and Katara ducks, narrowly avoiding his blade as it sweeps over her head.

“Who the fuck are you,” she hisses, water gloving her hand. She whips her arm and the water responds, hardening to ice spears and flying towards him. The figure dodges, ignoring her, and lunges in. Katara curses and whirls, spying an opening as he bares his side to her, and she pounces, hand extended in ice as she flies forward-

-And automatically gasps, hand flying to her throat when his free arm jerks up, a hidden dagger slicing across her neck. Hot blood pours down her throat and she falls, gagging, as it runs down her arms and chest. Pain, white hot pain, burns its way into Katara’s consciousness, and she feels a coldness in her limbs she’s never felt before. She briefly recognizes her necklace on the floor, drowning in a puddle of blood-  _ her  _ blood, but her vision clouds and her head suddenly feels like it's filled with fog.

_ Poison _ , she realizes blankly.  _ There was poison on the blade and now it’s in my system _ . She can feel it, he’s hit a major vein, possibly nicked her life vein, and the poison is racing it’s way through her body. She gurgles, blinking up at the figure standing before her, calmly wiping her blood on his tunic.

Yue shines down onto her,  ethereal  in her cold light. The stranger stares down, and in a muffled voice, she hears him say, “For the Fire Nation.”

White hot anger burns in her chest, burns brighter than the pain radiating out from her throat. Anger rips through her, and the darkness rises.  _ Kill him _ , it demands.  _ Make him drown in his own blood. _

She narrows her eyes, reaching out. She can feel his blood, pulsing strong and sure, can see his heart pounding in his chest. He starts, as if sensing the change in her, and backs away. Katara glares up at him, forcing herself to stand, and raises her hand, clenching her fingers and  _ pulls. _

He screams, his body going rigid. Katara stumbles forward, eyes burning, and reaches out, ripping the hood from his head. An older man greets her, and Katara screams in pain and anger, hands twisting as she forces his organs and major blood vessels inside to expand and rip themselves apart.

“Mercy!” the man screams, blood bubbling out of his mouth.

“You want it?” Katara hisses. Dimly, she can hear pounding at her door, but pays it no mind. It’s taking all her energy and focus to concentrate on her hold, and even now, the edges of her vision are going fuzzy. She grits her teeth, feels blood pouring out of her neck, and clenches down on the man’s heart. 

“Is that what the Air Nomads were given?” she screams, blood flying from her lips. With each word, she clenches down on another organ, with each word she rips him to pieces. She watches his eyes widen, his mouth open in a soundless howl of pain, and the darkness  _ purrs.  _ “Is that what my people were given? Is that what you were giving me? Mercy?”

The man babbles. The darkness swirls around her.  _ Puppetmaster _ , it whispers, and her eyes narrow. “I’ll show you mercy,” she whispers, and grips his heart. “This is for the Water Tribe.”

His heart disintegrates in her hands, and he goes limp. Katara stares, and he drops to the ground, body flopping as life leaves him. She feels the blood in her grip grow sluggish, and stares down. His eyes are staring up at her, empty and lifeless, and Katara staggers.

“Katara!” a voice screams, and she turns, body growing cold, as Zuko flies into the room. His eyes widen, take in the body at her feet, the blood on her hands, the blood on her throat. He gasps.

“Zuko,” she whispers, reaching out. Her vision blurs, and she stumbles, collapsing to the ground. Zuko cries out and runs forward, catching her before she hits the floor, and cups her face in his hands.

“Katara, Agni, no!” he screams. She faintly hears him call out for the healers, the guards, for help, but her vision is fading. His eyes are frantic as they find hers again, and there are tears pouring down his cheeks.

“Fuck, Katara, you stay with me,” he orders, hands flying to her throat to stem the bleeding. “You better fucking stay with me, Katara, you cannot die.”   


She wants to tell him she won't. She can’t, she’s got too much to do, and she doesn’t want to leave him. She still needs to apologize to Aang, still needs to go to Sokka and Suki’s wedding. She still needs to tell him how much she needs him, how much she relies on him. She tries, opening her mouth to speak, but the effort is too much, and her last thought is that she’ll miss him. Then she gets one last glimpse of the sun in his eyes, and her world goes black.

~0~

When Katara wakes up, the first thing she realizes is that it is very bright, her head is pounding, and her throat feels like the Si Wong Desert. She blinks, taking in the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and goes to sit up, but a gut wrenching pain slices through her neck. She groans and hisses, lowering herself back down.

"Easy there, Sugar Queen," an achingly familiar voice says, and Katara turns her head slowly, finding Toph sitting at her bedside. She frowns.  _ Toph's supposed to be here later this week. _

Toph smiles and inches closer, reaching out and taking Katara's hand. "You know," she says, squeezing her hand tightly. "When I said wait until I get here before you get yourself into trouble, I literally meant it. Geez, you couldn't wait a week could you?"

Katara blinks. There's something off about Toph's tone, a shakiness in her voice that she's never heard before. 

Then everything hits her at once. Her fight with Zuko, the assassin in her room, the slash to her neck. Her hand flies up, feeling the thick cloth hugging her throat.

"Easy now," Toph says, joining her on the mattress. "The healers say your life vein was nicked, and you were extremely close to bleeding out. They were able to get the poison out of your system, but you were so weak afterwards. They didn’t want to risk wearing out what little strength you had."

Yes, there's definitely a tremor in Toph's voice. She's scared, incredibly scared, and Katara thinks she's never seen the earthbender quite so terrified.

"What?" She croaks out, throat hurting. She coughs, and Toph moves, helping her sit up and shoving more pillows down. 

"Assassins," Toph says darkly, fingers fidgeting as she smooths out the blankets around Katara. Katara blinks. “You managed to kill the one that made it into your room, but Zuko found two more who were trying to escape the palace. Apparently there’s a whole coup out there that was trying to get rid of you, Katara. You never told me you were that popular.”

Katara looks around the room. The brightness, which happens to be Yue, lighting up the room as if it was day, illuminates the golden furniture, the big bay windows, the balcony-

“Where am I?” she whispers hoarsely. Before Toph can continue, Katara hears a low grumble, and Druk pokes his head into the room. Katara stares, and Toph clears her throat.

“You’re in Zuko’s chambers. He had you moved in here right after you went down. You’ve been here for nearly five days, Katara.”

Druk groans, inching his body further into the room, and rests his gigantic head on the mattress. Hot breath sweeps over Katara like a blanket, and she smiles wearily, reaching out her hand to lay on his cool scales. Toph grins, and points a finger in the dragon’s direction. “That one,” she says, and Druk hisses. “Has not left your side at all. He’s been out there on the balcony, and he won’t let anyone other than me or Zuko in the room.”

Katara sighs. “Thank you, Druk,” she whispers, scratching the magnificent creature. Toph coughs, and she turns her attention back to her friend, who’s staring off to her right, a forlorn look in her eyes. “Toph,” she begins hesitantly. “What’s-”

“You almost died, Katara,” Toph says, and she knows it's serious when the earthbender is using her actual name for once. “When I arrived and found you here, barely alive, I didn’t know what to do. Zuko, he- I’ve never seen him look so messed up. He never left your side, Katara. We didn’t know if you were going to make it. And I seriously don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t, what he would’ve done.”

A tear trickles out of Toph’s eyes. “I know you and I don’t always get along,” she begins, and Katara reaches out, squeezing her hand. “But you’re one of my best friends, Katara, and it would’ve killed me if you didn’t make it. Please, please don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Katara smiles. “I can’t promise anything,” she whispers. “But I know I’ll do everything in my power to never have to worry you like that unless I have to.”

Toph laughs. “Trust me, if anyone was worried, it was Zuko. I’ve never seen him so worked up like that, Katara. And now he’s out there hunting your killers-”   
  
“What?!” Katara gasps. “He’s out there?”   


Toph blinks. “Fuck,” she says. “I said too much.”

Katara narrows her eyes. “Toph, “ she says. “You need to tell me where Zuko is.”   
  
Toph shakes her head. “No, Katara,” she says. “You’re still injured, and I don’t know if the poison is completely out of your system-”

Yue is full. Katara can sense the power running through her veins. She takes a deep breath and pulls, and the air goes cold as she pulls the water from it. Toph goes quiet, and Katara brings her hand up to her neck, pulling away at the bandages. She can feel the torn skin, the blood still tricking from her throat, and she places the water over her wound, closing her eyes. Her blood is sluggish, and traces of poison remain, but she breathes slowly and lets the water flow through her, purifying the poison and stitching up her skin. By the time she’s done, she feels lighter, more energized, but still considerably weak. 

Toph is quiet, but reaches forward, her fingers gently tracing Katara’s newly healed skin. She frowns. “There’s a scar,” she whispers, and Katara feels the jagged, raised line where the blade bit in. She shrugs, thinking of Zuko’s scar painted on his face and on his chest. Battle wounds.

“Just another memory,” she says, gritting her teeth and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. Druk grumbles and lifts his head, lumbering away to give her space, and Toph gingerly gives her a boost. “Now, Toph, tell me where Zuko is.”   


Toph is quiet for a moment. “You know Zuko loves you, right?”

Katara pauses. “I don’t know,” she says, finally. “It’s complicated, okay?”

Toph sighs. “It’s really not, but I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself. Just, you need to know that Zuko wouldn’t take lightning for just anybody, Katara. Nor would he be out hunting any assassins like his own life depended on it. I’m just saying, Katara. You’re his number one priority.”

Katara’s heart flutters. “Zuko went down to the lower level of the city,” Toph says. “You should take Druk. He’s already taken down at least three of the coup members. Last I heard, there were only a few left. Go help him before he does something he’ll regret.”

“Thank you,” Katara breathes, then turns and climbs up on Druk’s shoulder. It makes her a bit dizzy, but she summons more water and lets it rejuvenate her senses. Normally, poison like this would have her incapacitated for week, but she has a feeling that Yue’s fueling her with enough power to overcome it. 

Druk leaps out from the balcony, leaving Toph behind in Zuko’s chambers. Katara sucks in a deep breath. The moon washes over her, flooding her senses with power and life. She can do so much under the moonlight, and she wishes that Yue had been full when the assassin had attacked her. At least she had her bloodbending-

That was it. She sits up straighter, looking up at the round moon in the sky, before looking down at her arms. She can sense her blood running in her veins, the weakened vitality of her life force drained of its usual vigor. She thinks of the assassin, taking control of his heart and crushing it to pieces, of wrenching Azula out of the confines of her own mind. All of it, with just one flick of her hand and her willpower overcoming theirs. If she could control other people’s blood, couldn’t she easily control hers?   
  
She closes her eyes. The pounding of blood floods her senses, and she reaches within herself, finding her heart pumping the blood throughout her body. She clenches her teeth, grips her heart, and pulls, letting out a harsh cry as she forces her heart to pump harder. She grips her blood, feeling it ebb and flow under her grip, and pushes, forcing it to multiply and grow, replenishing what was lost in the attack. Her heart cries out, and there’s a sharp pain in her chest, ballooning out until she feels like she’s losing her breath-

And then she gasps, eyes flying open as a rush of energy soars through her. She gasps, chest chest heaving, heart pumping back to normal as the blood sings in her veins. Gasping, she sags against Druk’s chest, feeling her energy grow and her blood flow strong. 

Spirits, she just  _ healed _ herself using bloodbending. The thought sends a giddy rush of energy through her. She just used her gift on herself. Of all the things bloodbending could do, the vile things it could do ( _ We have to fight these people whenever we can. Wherever they are, with any means necessary! _ ), she’s once again used it to heal, and this time, herself.

She opens her eyes. The lower city of the capital glows as Druk steadily approaches, and she leans forward. Now is not the time to revel in her handiwork. She spots a blast of flames, and her eyes narrow. “Come on,” she whispers to Druk, who snarls and floats lower. “Let’s go save him.”

~0~

The happiness she felt upon using her bloodbending for good disappears almost instantly. She follows the blood train to Zuko, and finds the bodies he leaves in his wake. Some of them are unconscious, but some of them, she notices, have slash marks too deep to heal. The darkness in her stirs.

She finds him in an alleyway, fighting three men with his dao swords. He’s dressed in his black fatigues, and the Blue Spirit mask hides his identity. She watches the way he fights, without his usual grace and posterity. He fights angrily, like a madman who doesn’t care about his life. He slashes and jabs, guttural roars flying from his mouth. The men have him surrounded.

“That Water Tribe bitch deserved to die!”

“Filthy whore! She poisoned the Firelord!”

“Peasant!" 

Each jab stings her soul, makes tears come to her eyes with each insult. Zuko snarls at everything, whirling and slashing out with his swords, but he’s met with their blades as they defend from his attacks. She watches a sword slash across his arm and he howls in agony.

“Whoever you are,” one of the men says, roughly shoving Zuko so that he falls to the ground. There’s a maniacal grin on his face as he raises his weapon. “You can go ahead and join that filthy water peasant in the hell she belongs. Send her our regards,  _ renegade.” _

Zuko raises his sword, but the man is bringing his down too fast. Katara watches, her breath catching in her throat, the blood rushing in her veins. The darkness hisses, taking pleasure from the chaos of the scene. She thinks of Fire Nation soldiers, taking Haru hostage. She thinks of Ozai, burning Zuko’s face and manipulating Azula. She thinks of the assassin in her room, ready to murder her for being friends with the Firelord. She thinks of Yon Rha, who sent a flame into her mother’s heart and  _ enjoyed  _ it. She grits her teeth, reaches out a hand, and  _ pulls. _

“Don’t you dare fucking touch him,” she screams, and lets all her anger out. The man cries out, hand dropping the sword as his body seizes. The other two cry out, but Zuko lunges, his dao slicing in two swift arcs, and their bodies fall to the ground.

Katara steps forward, slowing coming up to the trembling man she’s got a hold of. His eyes go wide as soon as he sees her, and out of the corner of her eye, she spies Zuko standing, blood dripping off his blades. It calls to her, and the darkness croons, swirling around her like an old friend welcoming her home.

“H-How,” the man gasps, blood dribbling from his chin. 

She opens her mouth, but Zuko steps forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Citizen Hian,” he says, in a voice burning with hatred. She’s never heard that tone from him before, and she realizes that there’s literal flames coming from his hands, his entire body trembling. “You have committed the highest acts of treason against the Firelord. By conspiring to assassinate Katara of the South Pole, you have declared war on the Water Tribes and on your own nation. For that, you will pay the ultimate price.”

Katara swallows. “Who are you,” Hian cries out. Zuko stiffens, then raises one hand and pulls the Blue Spirit mask off his face. Hian’s eyes widen when Zuko’s snarl comes into view, and the fire burning in his gold eyes is enough to throw Katara off. She’s never seen him look so angry.

“Zuko,” she whispers. She’s got a firm grip on Hian, so she turns and places a hand on his chest. His heart is  _ pounding _ uncontrollably, his inner fire unbalanced by the strength of his fury. “Zuko,  _ look at me.” _

He doesn’t move, so she reaches up, placing a hand on his scarred cheek. He flinches and blinks, eyes dimming as he takes her in. “Katara,” he breathes, and she’s being pulled into a rough hug, arms wrapping around her tightly. “Spirits, Katara,” he whispers, and she inhales his scent. “I thought I lost you.”

She pulls away. “You’ll never lose me,” she says to him, and he takes her hand, fingers lacing through hers. “And even so, is killing my assassins really a good way to get justice?”   


Hian cries from behind her, but her grip is too strong for him to break free. Zuko sighs. “You were dying, Katara. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want me to have my revenge.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she says. “You let me get my revenge on Yon Rha, despite Aang preaching about mercy. I understand why you felt the need to get justice, and I’m not judging you. But Zuko, going out by yourself, with no one to protect you, is dangerous.”

His eyes narrow. “So is losing you,” he says, and Katara sags. He leans in, resting his forehead against her shoulder. “I had to do something.”   


She wraps him in a hug. “I know,” she says. “I know.”

They stand in silence for a moment, and Katara loses herself in the touch of Zuko’s hands, the pounding beat of his heart, the warmth of his inner fire. She closes her eyes, losing concentration, and Hian shrieks. 

She and Zuko react at the same time. His hand rises at the moment hers pulls, and Hian cries out. Katara doesn’t look, but she can feel his body get impaled on Zuko’s dao, feel his blood come to a rushing halt under her hand as his life force is ripped away. She doesn’t look when his body crumples to the ground. She just looks up at Zuko, and he looks down at her, and she lets herself hang in the fragile balance of this moment, where she killed a man to save Zuko, and he did the same for her. 

Above, Druk trumpets a war cry, and Yue looks on, bathing the blood scene in her cold, ever present light.

~0~

She pushes Zuko blindly into his room, not bothering to even disguise their presence from the guards. They make a loud slamming noise as they topple in through the balcony, and Katara breathlessly thanks Druk for his help before pushing Zuko inside. Druk grumbles, but curls up on the balcony, eyes trained towards the palace grounds, and she closes the door.

"What in Agni's name were you thinking, Zuko?" She snarls, glaring at him from where he sits on his bed. In the city, she was lost in the heat of the moment, fighting to protect Zuko’s life and he hers, and the last thing on her mind was worrying about the severity of the situation. But now, in the safety of his rooms, she finds herself overwhelmed with anger at his stupidity. How could he leave her here, leave Toph here, and go gallivanting around the city without any protection? She’s livid, and he's not meeting her gaze, and her eyes are immediately drawn to the blood sheeting down his arm. 

" _ Fuck _ , Zuko," she says, striding towards him. He flinches as she comes to crouch in front of him, taking his arm and stretching it out before her prying gaze. "You didn't tell me you were hurt."

He sighs. "It's nothing I haven't dealt with before," he responds roughly. Katara rolls her eyes, and wordlessly summons some water to her hands, letting her healing do it's work. It's not a deep cut, not by any means, but it's long, and it takes a few minutes for her to heal him. He doesn't take his eyes off her the entire time.

"Why'd you do it?" She whispers, looking up and meeting his gaze.

His eyes soften. "You know why."

Her blood boils. "No," she snaps, standing up. "I do not. Explain to me, Zuko, why you went off gallivanting into the city to defeat crime  _ all by yourself." _

_ " _ I did it for you!" Zuko roars, springing to his feet. Katara startles and steps back, unable to discern the burning intensity of his gaze. "I did it, Katara, because barely a week ago you nearly died, right here in this palace, in my arms, and the man who did this to you was not alone."

Her heart flutters. "So you thought the brightest idea was to go hunting for the rest of them. Without help or protection."

He sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. "I had to do something, Katara. Knowing that the men who wanted to kill you were out there, I couldn't just sit here."

"Idiot," she cries, and his eyes widen. "What if you had gotten hurt? Killed even?"

His eyes narrow. "So be it," he says, and her fury rises.

"No, Zuko!" She snarls, and she can feel ice forming around her clenched knuckles. "What good would it be if you died??? Don't be an idiot, I'm not worth it, not for this kingdom!"

His eyes soften, and he steps in close, almost too close. She can feel the heat radiating off of him, his blood pulsing in his throat. She can see the heat boiling in his eyes, feel their breath mingle. Her heart is pounding, and she can tell Zuko feels it too. "Yes," he breathes. "You _ are. _ "

She stares at him, and he stares back. It feels like an eternity between them, and then he moves, and she rises to meet him. His hands find her first, curling around the back of her neck and cupping her cheek, and her arms are pressing against his chest, and then he's kissing her.

Kissing Zuko, she realizes, is warmer than the summer sun, setting her whole body aglow. She gasps into his mouth, tasting starlight and spices on his tongue, and he's moaning into her mouth, twining his fingers through her hair, yanking the tie out of her topknot. She gasps, and he pulls away, eyes burning.

She stares, hands clenched on the lapels of his tunic, and he smooths a hand down her hair, cups her cheek. "Oh Katara," he breathes. "Losing you was never an option."

He leans back in, kissing her hard. She gasps into his mouth, his hands undoing the tie on her robes and flinging it off her shoulders. She lets him, hands roaming her body like a painter with his canvas. His tunic soon joins hers, their hands working in tandem to tear his off his broad shoulders.

Zuko breaks the kiss, eyes dark with desire, and pushes her to the bed. She falls, arms flopping our gracefully, as she hits the mattress, Zuko following close. He covers her body, aligning himself with her so their chests meet, their hips grind, and Katara can feel all of him.

She's never felt so desperately to feel him. She leans up, kissing him, running her fingers over his skin reverently. It pulls a groan from his chest, and they roll until he's under her, her dark hair spilling over then like a waterfall.

"Spirits," she gasps, his lips connected to her throat, tracing his tongue over her pulse. She groans and rolls her hips, feels him straining in his trousers. It pulses to her very core, and she rubs herself against him, riding the pleasure mounting deep inside her.

A pleasant burn interrupts her and she looks down. Zuko's eyes are molten gold as he looks up at her, a seared line burnt down the center of her bindings. He grins up at her and pulls her head down, bringing her into a searing kiss while pushing her ruined bindings off.

Katara moans as he rolls a nipple between his fingers, his warm hands cupping her reverently. He grins against her lips. “Do that again,” he murmurs. 

She smiles. “Make me.”

He flings her off him, and she grunts when she hits the mattress. He settles above her, eyes glinting with mischief, and his hands come to her lower wrappings, fingers dipping under the cloth to tease at the sensitive skin underneath. “Mmm, Katara,” he whispers, lowering his head to kiss her stomach. She hisses and arches against him, craving more friction. “I have so many plans for you.” Then he lowers his head and pulls her wrappings off, pressing a kiss to each of her bare thighs before pressing his mouth against her.

“Fuck, Zuko!” she cries, and he hums, pressing a finger up into her. This pulls another moan from her throat, and she feels his grin against her core. One hand rises up and cups her breast, rolling her nipple while running his tongue across her slit, finger pumping in and out steadily. 

“Zuko,” she cries, hand scrabbling for support on his sheets. He smiles and raises his head, lips glistening. 

“That,” he whispers, wiping his mouth. “Is a beautiful sight.”

She reaches out and cups his cheek. “Kiss me,” she begs, pulling him towards her. He smiles and follows, crawling his way up her body, leaving a map of kisses on her skin. His lips find her breasts, rolling her nipple between his tongue and teeth, and she mewls, feeling her core burning. He raises his head and kisses her, and she tastes herself on his lips.

“Fuck, Katara,” he gasps, and his hand lowers back down to her core, finding her nub and sending shivers of pleasure radiating out beyond her. She cries out, arching up as he rubs, and he covers his mouth with hers, silencing her cries. The pleasure builds, and he slides two fingers inside, keeping his thumb on her, and she swears she can see stars. Zuko is mouthing along her jaw, one hand on her breast, and the other is tight in her, fingers moving in tandem with his mouth. Katara moans, feeling the pressure building up, tighter and tighter, her breath moving further up her throat, and then Zuko kisses her again, thumb rubbing-

Katara cries out, a heady moan that’s low and staggering as the pleasure crashes through her in a tidal wave. Zuko smiles against her skin, continuing to draw her orgasm out, and she shudders, arching against him as the pleasure hits her in waves. She moans, eyes squinting shut, flopping back into the mattress, and Zuko kisses her cheek.

She finally comes back to her senses, with Zuko nuzzling her throat and his hand wandering down the length of her stomach. She can feel him pressed against her, the hard length of him sending thrills through her core. He presses a light smattering of butterfly kisses across her skin, his fingers dipping down to trace along her folds. Her core sings with pleasure, and she lets her legs drop open a bit more.

"Do you want to?" He whispers. She looks up and meets his gaze, eyes burning like twin suns, and cups his scarred cheek. His eyes soften, and he turns his head, kissing her palm. "We don't have to."

She can feel his need pressing hard against his thigh, the quiver in his fingers as he touches her. She moans softly. "Yes," she says, reaching down and shoving at the waistband of his trousers. "Please, Zuko, I need you."

His eyes darken, and he rolls over her, shoving his trousers down. She reaches down and strokes, and he inhales sharply, eyes closing, breath hitching in his throat. She leans up, licking a burning trail down his neck, tasting the sweat on his skin, and grips him firmly, stroking him in the same fashion as he did to her. He keens, pressing down into her, burning his face in her hair.

"Fuck, Katara," he groans, and pushes her down. She spreads her legs and pulls him down to her, letting the blunt tip of him stroke along her folds. She's so overwhelmed with her need for this boy, and she kisses him hard. He gasps, and thrusts, entering her with one smooth movement that has her moaning his name.

"Zuko," she cries, throwing her head back. He peppers kisses along her throat, wrapping her arms around him. He groans, hips undulating against hers, and her nails dig little moons into his skin. "Please.  _ Harder." _

He does. He thrusts hard and fast, groaning her name into her ear. "Katara," he moans. She meets his gaze, his eyes narrowed in pleasure. She loves this, the warm burn of him in her, the pleasure spiking in her chest, the warmth in his eyes. As if sensing it, he smiles, taking her hand in his. 

"Don't stop," she begs. He leans in, reconnecting their lips, and she gasps, his free hand reaching in between their bodies to rub at her. The pleasure mounts, and she can feel his hips stuttering as he nears his own peak. She clings to him, moaning his name in his ear, and comes hard and fast. He curses, hips slamming into hers, and she feels the pulse of him in her as he groans, collapsing against her and pulling her close. The rhythm of their heartbeats are in sync, and she can feel the pulse of his blood in time with hers.

It's quiet, the only sounds are the heaving gasps of their breaths, the rustle of silk sheets. Katara stares up at the ceiling, her chest racing, and feels Zuko's hand touch hers. Hesitant, soft. She rolls over, meets his gaze, and the fond look in his eyes is enough to make her heart flutter. He smiles.

"Can you stay?" He whispers, and her heart aches. It is the implication in his words, the fact that he wants her to stay, but it's up to her. His eyes, round and pleading, the sloping purse of his well-kissed lips, tug at something within her. With his tousled hair and his sleepy eyes, he looks innocent, so young, like the carefree teenager he should have been if this war hadn't taken so much from them. She wonders what she looks like, if she could maybe look the same, suspended in time at this very moment. It might paint a beautiful picture: two people, tangled up under silk sheets, with tousled hair and well-kissed lips, with the softness of  _ something _ brimming between them. 

He brings their twined fingers up to his mouth, kissing her softly. He looks up, his golden eyes burning. Her eyes fall to the star on his chest. She remembers the way he stared up at her after it happened, the way he clung to her with all he had. It's the same in this moment now, her and Zuko, with his heart in her hands, and everything that is holding her back just falls away. She nods, and his eyes brighten, and he pulls her close. 

"Thank you," he breathes, kissing her. She closes her eyes, engulfs herself in him, and he extinguishes the candles with a flick of his hand.

~0~

There’s a hand carding through her hair when she opens her eyes. There’s sunlight pouring through the windows, setting its warm gaze on Katara’s back. She stretches and yawns, arching against the body nestled against hers amongst the covers. A warm hand cups her throat, and she turns her head, meeting Zuko’s lips in a sunkissed embrace. 

“Morning,” he whispers, running a hand down her body. She smiles and murmurs against him, raising a hand and carding it through his thick raven locks. 

“Zuko,” she mumbles, and rolls over. He’s propped up on one elbow, looking down at her with affection and warmth brimming in his golden eyes. The sight of him, bathed in sunlight, marbled skin shining and hair askew, is poignant in its simplicity. Staring up at him, she reaches out and cups his cheek, runs her fingers over his scar, tracing the ridges and whorls that decorate the side of her face. She recognizes that something now, the something that she can see in his eyes, as well as her own heart. She doesn’t know why she didn’t before. But it is love that lives in her chest, love for this boy of fire who took lightning to the heart for her. She stares up into his warm eyes, the scar on his cheek. She loves him.

“I could stay like this forever,” he murmurs, bending down and kissing her. The sweet taste of his lips brings a murmur to her throat, and she thinks she could melt in the press of his palms against her cheeks, the press of his chest against her, the rhythm of his heartbeat. He pulls away, looking down at her, and smiles. 

She sits up, pulling the sheets up around her. Zuko stands and stretches, and she takes this moment to admire the smooth contours of his back, the way his pearly skin lays over the sinews of his muscles. He turns, catching her looking, and smirks. This pulls a blush over her cheeks, and she looks away. 

He hears him sigh, and feels his weight come back to the bed. His hand comes up, taking her chin and turning her back to meet his eyes. “Katara,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”   


She shakes her head. “I’m just scared,” she whispers. “What if this was all a mistake?”

His eyes harden. “Listen to me,” he says, taking her hand. “This was not a mistake. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re confused, but never, ever, believe for one second that this was a mistake.”

She sighs. “I just.. Spirits, Zuko, I’m just worried that after what happened, we’ll, I don’t know, become distant, lose each-”

He pulls her in, kissing her hard. When he pulls back, she searches his gaze, and finds only happiness. “Katara,” he breathes, cupping her cheek. “I'm in love with you."

Her breath hitches in her throat.

"I am," he says. He's staring, his eyes crinkling, and his hand squeezes hers. "I love you, Katara, with everything I am. And I know that's not what you need right now, a boy who holds an unsteady country in his hands, a boy who cannot control when death knocks on your door. But this is the truth. This is who I am, a boy who loves you with all the weight of a thousand moons."

She stares, the blood pounding in her ears.  _ This _ , she thinks, staring at the boy with golden eyes and the scar over his heart. This is what she’s needed- not a boy pretending to be a man, exploring the world on the back of the wind. With Aang, she would have spent her entire life wandering the world, searching for her soul, unable to grow, unable to heal. But with Zuko, that future is possible, it  _ exists _ . Her soul is here, tethered to a boy of fire who can let her rise above the clouds, rather than stay chained to the ground.

He leans in close, and she can taste the spice in the air between their breaths. “What do you say, Katara?” he breathes. “Can you see yourself with a boy who loves you very much?”   


She smiles, and a tear leaks its way down her cheek. “I am just a simple girl from the South Pole,” she whispers back. “I have nothing to give you but this heart that beats in my chest and the water I bend. I don’t have lands, I don’t have a title, nor do I have royal blood that runs through my veins. Can you accept a simple peasant girl into the royal palace?”

He grins. “Only if you can accept an arrogant Firelord who doesn’t deserve you.”

She sighs. “I can live with that,” she says, and the warm look he sends her is enough to make her insides warm, her heart flutter. He bends down, kissing her, and she lets herself go, losing herself in the taste of his tongue, the weight of his love, and the burn of his promise burning it’s mark on her soul. 

He pulls away, cups her cheek with his warm, calloused hand, and smiles down at her. “I’m not one for long, emotional outbursts,” he whispers. His gaze is burning a tattoo of warmth across Katara’s heart, burning away at the anger that simmers beneath the surface. “But ever since you came into my life, Katara, my world has been so much brighter with you in it. You helped me defeat my sister, and at the same time, you healed her. You have done so much for me, my family, my nation. I know it’s taken some time, and I’ve broken your trust too many times, but I cannot picture my life without you.”

She kisses his palm. “Oh Zuko,” she murmurs. His eyes are soft, his fingers cradling her face like he would a newborn turtleduck. “I’ve been a mess from the moment you took lightning for me,” she confesses, raising a hand to trace Zuko’s scars. His skin is warm to the touch, and he doesn’t flinch from her hand. She looks up at him. “I’ve been so scared, and so tired, and so defeated, even at the height of victory. I couldn’t help but think I was a lost soul, no matter what I did. But one thing I know for certain is that you have been there for me every single time, on my brightest days and my darkest nights. No matter what happens next,  I know I’ll be fine when you’re near me.”

His eyes burn, and he leans in, kissing her softly, cupping her cheeks and pulling her close. She smiles against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. He laughs, and Katara relishes the deep rumble that reverberates clear to her soul, filling her with his fire. He pulls away, but presses his forehead against hers, staring at her reverently. “My favorite water tribe peasant,” he whispers teasingly.

She grins. “His royal ass, Firelord of the Fire Nation.”

He laughs again, and Katara joins in, letting the jubilant atmosphere wipe her dark thoughts away. Zuko is everything she needs, right here, in this moment. He finds her hand and squeezes it, and Katara grips it like it’s her lifeline. 

“We get through this,” Zuko whispers. “Together.”

She nods, feeling more clarity than ever before, rushing over her like a clear stream. “Together.”

~0~

_ Katara, _

_ Please, please, please tell me you’re okay. When Zuko wrote saying you’d been injured, Dad and I nearly burnt the village down in our terror. Please, in the name of all spirits, please tell me you’re okay. I can’t lose you, I can’t. Losing mom was bad enough, but you? Spirits, I think it would kill me. _

_ Wait for me. I’m coming. _

_ Sokka _

~0~

Zuko becomes obsessed. Katara can understand his fixation; the girl who’s never left his side in the past several months is incapacitated in his own home, the home he had to fight tooth and nail to get back, the home he’s had to defend from the gnarly teeth of politics and older nobles who would rip him apart if he showed the slightest amount of weakness. Still, she thinks this may be a little too much, having Druk follow her everywhere she goes, and guards hunting the streets after dark, weeding out any other dissenters that would cause her harm.

He doesn’t let her out of his rooms for a  _ week. _ When he finally does, he barely leaves her side, and it’s Toph who comes to her rescue, Toph who literally  _ slams  _ Zuko into a wall with her fist, then traps him against it with stone cuffs. 

“For Agni’s sake,” Zuko roars. Katara snorts into her palm, watching him struggle, but Toph is impassive, staring at him with those milky eyes. “Let me go!”

The guards down the hall are watching, but one raised brow from Katara has them frozen. Zuko turns his beseeching gaze on them, but Toph tightens her fist, and he snarls as the stone closes around him. 

“Not until you give us some space,” Toph snorts. “Between me and Druk, plus every single fucking guard in this palace, I think Katara and I can manage to walk to the garden and back.”

He huffs, and smoke comes out of his nostrils. “Why can’t I come?” he grumbles, and Toph rolls her eyes. 

“Maybe because you have to meet with the Ministers to go over the school renovations?”   


Katara perks. “Oh,” she says, eyes brightening. “I completely forgot about the school! How is that coming along?”

Toph punches her, making Zuko squawk. “Sugarqueen,” Toph says slowly, in a voice that says she is anything but patient. “My best friend Katara, I understand that you got attacked recently, but I did not think that you sustained any damage to that beautiful brain of yours. Clearly you couldn’t have, because you would completely understand that I am trying to keep Zuko from becoming a permanent shadow, glued to you like a parasite.”

Zuko groans. “Oh my god, Toph,” he moans out. “When did you become so melodramatic?” He looks at Katara, eyes pleading for her to help him, but she raises her hands, an apologetic look in her eyes. 

Toph smirks. “I am not Toph,” she says, in an achingly familiar voice. “I am Melon Lord.”

Katara coughs. “Well,” she says. “That does it for me. Zuko, Melon Lord over here will keep me safe and sound."

Toph grins victoriously, and Zuko sighs. The stone cuffs disappear from his wrists, and he drops to the ground unceremoniously. He grumbles, and Katara hears snorts from the guards down the hall.

"I'll see you both for dinner?" He asks, eyes flitting to her. She smiles encouragingly, and Toph snorts. 

"Let's go, Sugar Queen," she says, and grabs Katara's hand, pulling her away from Zuko and continuing their way down the hall. Zuko calls out a goodbye, and she turns, meeting his warm gaze, and he mouths  _ I love you _ .

"You seem happy," Toph says. She squeezes Katara's hand, and this makes the waterbender smile.

"I am happy", she says, and Toph grins.

Her good mood lasts through dinner, where Zuko is a comforting presence by her side and Toph's boisterous laughter keeps the demons at bay. It's only until she's back in her room, shucking her robes off and sliding under the sheets. Her eyes immediately fall into the bloodstain on the floor, and she feels pain crawling it's way up her chest, settling in the scar on her throat, and her breath catches.

The image of the assassin, eyes frozen in a snarl, flashes in the forefront of her mind. She squeezes her eyes shut, clutching at her hair, but the smell of blood is strong in her nostrils and the sickening feel of his body succumbing to her will tugs at her hands. 

She can't do this. She flees from the room, slamming the doors open and sprinting down the hall. She can hear the guards call out, but she frowns out the noise, climbing the stairs to the royal apartments. The guards in front of Zuko's chambers start at her ragged appearance, but she slams against the doors and bursts into his room.

Zuko whirls, eyes widening as she makes her entrance. He's shirtless, and appears to be in the middle of settling Druk down when she arrives, and his mouth opens. She doesn't give him a chance.

She's in his arms before he can say a word, chest heaving. His arms come up around her immediately, crushing her into him, and she can feel Druk wind his neck around the two of them, his hot breath forming a protective curtain.

"Hey," he breathes. "Hey, Katara, I got you."

She shudders, breathing in the smoke lingering on his skin, and tries to slow her heart rate to match his. Druk grumbles, and she pulls away slightly to look up at her dragon, and her boy.

Zuko frowns. "What's wrong?" He whispers, cupping her cheeks.

"Just take me to bed," she begs. "Please." 

He nods, taking her hand and wordlessly leading her to the bedroom. Druk slithers behind, jamming his head in the doorway, and Katara could kiss his snout. Now if anyone were to try and slip into Zuko's chambers, they'd have to deal with one very pissed off, fiery dragon.

She slips under the sheets, nestling in the wide expanse of Zuko's bed, and he follows, dimming the candlelight. He leaves a few burning, making sure that all four corners are lit. The shadows can't hurt her here.

He bundles up from behind, wrapping his sinewy arms around her, pulling her flush into his body. She trembles, but he brushes her hair from the nape of her neck and places a gentle kiss on her skin. Warmth floods out from his lips, rushing through her body and settling her soul, driving back the darkness that threatens her every waking moment.

"I'm here," he whispers. "Whatever you need."

She tucks her nose into his arm. "I know," she breathes. "I know."

The steadiness of his breath and the even beat of his heart is what anchors her, tying her down to this moment where Zuko drives away the echoes of war with a brush of his lips. She doesn't think sleep can possibly come, but it does, washing over her in a gentle tide, with the even rasp of Zuko's breathing sending her off.

~0~

_ Katara, _

_ I hope you’re doing okay. Zuko wrote informing us about what happened, and Toph also sent word that she was with you. She says you’re doing better, but we’re still reeling down here. Sokka and Hakoda are making plans to come, but the spring thaw has caused the floodwaters to cause damage to a lot of the city, so it might be a little while before we can get there.  _

_ Please let us know how you’re doing. Stay strong,  _

_ Suki _

~0~

The ministers are arguing with Zuko about the budget. Again. For some of the richest nobles in the capital city, they are probably the stingiest people Katara has ever met in her life. And she should know. She's got Sokka for a brother.

Zuko is putting up a good fight, but he's never had the same patience she had when dealing with the ministers. They're refusing to budge on the allocation of an extra one hundred pounds to replace a door, which, on any other day, would make her fly to her feet with a water whip at the ready. Today, though, she can only sigh, and stare at the letters from Sokka and Suki sitting in her lap.

It's been a few short weeks since the attempted assassination on her life. Summer is fast approaching, and life is moving on. Zuko's school is almost complete, just needing to complete this final milestone before opening. And her brother is coming back, coming back to her, as soon as he's able to. But why is her heart still so unsettled?

She blinks, realizing that Minister Kim has directed a question towards her. She looks up and frowns, and Zuko sighs.

"Minister Kim," he says, his concerned gaze resting on her. "Please repeat the question." 

The Minister's lip curls. "I asked Master Katara if it would be possible for us to withdraw half of the funds from her hospital budget. One hundred pounds does not simply appear out of thin air."

Toph smirks. "No, but I'm sure I could squeeze a few from that rusty brain of yours."

The Minister's gulp at her thinly veiled threat, but Katara pays them no mind. It's getting too stuffy in this throne room, and she'd rather be anywhere but here, listening to the ministers bleed her heart dry. She pushes away from the table and rises, startling the congregation. Zuko opens his mouth, but she turns her tired eyes on him, and he freezes.

The ministers all blink owlishly at her, but she pays them no mind. Sokka's and Suki's letters fall to the ground, and she whirls, gathering her skirts and fleeing from the throne room. Zuko calls out, but she ignores it, rushing down the hall until she reaches her sanctuary. Only then does she stop, staggering to a halt next to her cherry tree, listening to the soft waves of the pond.

It's not long before Zuko finds her, slipping to her side like a shadow. She doesn't meet his gaze, but rather directs her attention to the turtleducks, until he clears his throat. She looks over, and finds her letters in his hand.

"I couldn't help but see them," he confesses. " They fell open after you left, and I saw a little bit of Sokka's. Is this why you're so out of it?"

She nods blankly, and takes the letters from him. "I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean-"

"Katara," he says gently, taking her hand. "You were nearly killed a few weeks ago and your family is trapped in the South Pole, unable to come see how you're doing. It's okay. I get it."

She lowers her gaze. "I know, I just feel terrible. I'm so useless today."

He shrugs. "Katara, you've gotten more done for the Fire Nation in a few weeks than my entire family has done in  _ generations.  _ You're allowed a day off."

"Did the ministers say anything?"

Zuko groans. "I wish everyone could be as efficient as you. I got the extra hundred pounds, without having to dip into your hospital funds. Toph threatened to bury Minister Kim."

Katara frowns. "She didn't!"

He coughs. "Alive."

Katara rolls her eyes, mood lifting. "I'll have a word with the ministers tomorrow."

Zuko shrugs. "They're much better, ever since you took care of them. I don't think you have to worry too much. They'll be fine."

She sighs, and Zuko leans in. "Hey," he murmurs, and she meets his warm gaze. "We get through this. Together."

She smiles and pulls him down, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I know," she whispers. "I just wish our entire family was here."

Zuko's eyes soften. "We'll get Sokka here," he murmurs, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Whatever it takes."

She looks into his warm eyes, feels the heat of his skin on hers, and knows with a sharp, clear sense of certainty that Zuko, in all the months she's known him, has never broken a promise.

And she knows, furthermore, that he doesn't intend to start now.

~0~

_ Katara, _

_ I don’t know what to say. When I found out you were hurt, I almost went into the Avatar State. I wanted to kill Zuko for putting you in harm’s way, but I know it wasn’t his fault. Just like it wasn’t yours when things between us went wrong.  _

_ I’m coming back to the Fire Nation. Stay strong until I get there. I miss you. _

_ Aang _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Few things to note:  
> \- I will ALSO be writing a Katara/Azula separate fic that goes more indepth on Azula's healing process. I wanted to tackle it in this chapter but that would have been waaaay too much for this chapter  
> \- Zuko POV on the assassination attempt is currently being constructed
> 
> I wasn't sure how to end this chap, so I hope you're all satisfied with what you got. The next chapter is the final chapter, and it's already finished, just needs some major editing. Be sure to tune in next week.
> 
> Please let me know what you guys thought. Your comments are a great motivation to keep on writing!


	4. your mess is mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the tenderness of Zuko’s golden gaze, the lilting laugh coming from Toph’s mouth and the easy vibrance of Aang’s spirit, she feels her soul slowly stitching itself back together in the warmth of the summer heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are folks, the final chapter of the first installment of my "Seasons" universe! Thank you all for the love you've given me on this story, I am so grateful for your loyalty and support! This fic is the product of much love and dedication to the Avatar franchise, and I truly hope I did my babies Zutara some justice.
> 
> M rating, as always!

_ ~ If your heart can be at rest, I’ll give it my all ~ _

_ Promise | EXO _

~0~

_ Katara, _

_ I’m so sorry we haven’t been able to come. You know I’d be there in a heartbeat. But the spring storms caused a lot of damage to the ships, so we need to finish repairs before we can visit. It kills me to be apart from you with everything that happened, but rest assured, little sister. I will be there as soon as I can. We’ll be there before your birthday. I promise. _

_ I love you, lil sis. Always. _

_ Sokka _

~0~

The nightmares return with the summer heat. Oftentimes, she finds herself waking up in a panicked sweat, screaming at the sight of blood and Hian's limp body flying into Zuko's dao. She dreams of the assassin hunting her down, slicing into her throat and her hands crushing his heart. She sees Aang's sad eyes watching her, full of betrayal, and Zuko's face, filled with disgust.

This is the ugly side of war they don’t teach you about. You grow up learning about the bravery of warriors, of the courage boiling in your blood during the heat of battle, the warcry singing in your veins. Of brave princes and beautiful princesses, of valiant causes and resourceful benders, of evil being vanquished with a flick of the hand, a strike of purity and courage at the heart of darkness.

But they don’t tell you about this. They don’t tell you of the aftermath, the trauma of war shadowing you in the days after, of scars on your body and heart. They don’t tell you about the nightmares, where the darkness plagues you at your weakest, when your mind can’t keep up with the terrors forced on you. Katara wishes she’d known before. Rather than be prepared for the glory and the triumph, she wishes she could’ve been prepped for this trauma, this post-war prison she’s brought down on herself. No one told her of the devastation it would wreck upon her. No one told her of the devastation it would bring upon a young girl’s already damaged soul.

Zuko’s beside her when she wakes this time, hurtling to a sitting position, chest heaving. Outside her window lies Druk, on the slab of stone Toph had bent for him to keep guard when she’s alone. Druk and Zuko, her diligent guardians. They’d come to her rooms every night once the nightmares returned, Zuko crawling into her bed and rocking her while she cried, and Druk hovering outside her window and eventually guarding from the garden. After the first few nights of her screaming, Toph bent the stone out of the wall under her window for Druk to curl up on and keep watch once the exhaustion took over. The dragon raises his head tonight, eyes narrowed and tongue flicking in her direction. Heart pounding, Katara manages a shaky smile, and the dragon rests his head back down, but his reptilian eyes are still watching her. 

_ In and out _ , she councils herself. She bends the sweat off her head, flicking the droplets out to the side. She scans the room. No assassins, no Hian, no Aang. Not that it matters- the damage is already done. They may be gone, but their ghosts still haunt her in her dreams. 

Beside her, Zuko stirs. She looks over her shoulder as he pushes himself to his elbows, the silk sheets crumpling at his waist. He yawns, rubbing his eyes, and looks at her, sleep still swimming in his gaze. “Hey,” he whispers, reaching out and pulling her close. “You ok?”

She closes her eyes, burying her face in the warm skin of his chest. He sighs, running his hands down her back and her hair, and presses a kiss to her head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugs, and Zuko pulls her closer. He wraps his arms tightly around her, and drags them back down to the mattress. Katara takes a deep, rattling breath, and tries to match her heart to beat to the rhythm of his. 

“Whatever you need,” he whispers, hand rubbing soothingly down her sides. “I’m here for you. And Toph is right down the hall if you need her too.”   


Katara smiles. That’s her Zuko, always offering everything he has to make her feel comfortable. She couldn’t ask for anything more. It’s something she’s always loved about him- his willingness to help whoever is around him, no matter who they are or what they need. Whether it’s a Fire Nation citizen settling a dispute, teaching Aang firebending, or calming Katara from her demons, he’s always there to do whatever it takes. It’s just who he is. She can’t help but love him for it.

After a few minutes, once her heart rate has settled down and she can no longer see Hian’s twisted face mocking her from the grave, she shifts, pulling out of Zuko’s warm embrace so she could see his face. He rolls, propping himself on one elbow so he could look down at her, carding his fingers through her hair. His eyes are soft, his hair sleep-tousled, and his skin looks like it’s kissed by the stars. 

“I saw you,” she confessed. “I dreamed of Hian and the assassin, of bloodbending to save myself. I saw Aang, and he told me he was disappointed in me, that I’d let him down, and we could no longer be friends.” Zuko’s eyes darken. “But the worst part was seeing you. You watched me bloodbend the assassin and you were terrified of me. And then I bloodbent  _ you _ , and drowned you in your own blood. And I  _ liked  _ it, Zuko,” she breathes. “In my dream, I was laughing at you while you died, I bathed in your suffering.”

Zuko’s quiet, and when she dares make eye contact with him, he’s not looking at her with disgust, nor contempt, nor hatred. There’s a hushed anguish pooling in his gaze, and he reaches out, cupping her cheek in his heated palm. The roughness of his skin against hers makes her heart flutter, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to her lips that leaves her breathless. The hand on her cheek migrates to her hair, and he rolls onto her, propping himself up as he pulls away. He meets her gaze and kisses her again. “Katara,” he breathes, and her hand comes up tentatively to rest on his chest. “I could never be scared of you.”

Her eyes close. “You don’t know that, Zuko,” she breathes. “This power of mine- it has a terrible history. I can feel the evil of it welling up inside me, and I don’t want- I  _ can’t _ do it to you. It would kill me.”

He cups her cheek, and she cautiously looks up at him. He’s staring down at her affectionately, and leans in, kissing her tenderly on the forehead. It wrenches at her heartstrings and draws tears to her eyes. The love she has for this boy is enough to drown the entire world in water, but the fear she holds in her heart is enough to drown her. She doesn’t want to hurt him.

“Katara,” he says. “I could never be scared of you, because you would never hurt me. I know this is as true as the blood running through my veins. You are many things, Katara. A warrior, a healer, a friend and a lover. But you are  _ not _ a killer.” He runs his fingers down the side of her face, then drops lower, framing the silver scar that decorates her throat. Her mother’s necklace is gone, damaged in the attempt, and now finds itself nestled in the pockets of his robes, waiting to be fixed. He touches her scar reverently, fingertips kissing her skin like it’s a rare gem.    


A tear trickles down her cheek, and Zuko wipes it away with a sweep of his fingers. “I see their faces,” she whispers. “I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Zuko pulls her close. “I don’t know how to either,” he whispers, and she buries her face in the crook of his neck. “But I do know this. I will be with you every step of the way, to hold you when it gets hard, to comfort you when it’s too dark, and carry you when you fall. You’re not in this alone, Katara. You never were.”

She looks up at him, and he smiles tenderly at her. “I love you, Katara,” he whispers. “I love everything there is about you, your light and your darkness. I know you, know the beautiful heart within your chest. Life’s trials have tested you, the war has shaped you, but it hasn’t changed who you are. You are the purest person I know, Katara, and that is who I fell in love with. That is the person I see today.”

She smiles through her tears, hands tracing the star brushed across his skin. "You make it sound so simple," she whispers.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Isn't it?" He replies, with so much clarity painted across his face. She stares up into his warm eyes, and he smiles. "Remember," he says, fingers lacing through hers. "We're in this. Together."

She closes her eyes. "Okay," she breathes. She feels him roll off her and immediately longs for his warmth, but he's back next to her in a heartbeat, rolling over onto his side and pulling her back into his chest.

"I love you," he whispers into her neck, arms holding her close. Katara smiles, lacing their hands together and squeezing tight, letting the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat lull her back into a dreamless sleep.

~0~

“I’ve never seen Sparky look so...alive,” Toph says, and Katara blinks, peering at the earthbender over her cup of tea. Toph sips from her own cup, and there’s a peaceful look on her face that almost doesn’t suit her. Serenity is not a common trait for the earthbender- she is a creature of chaos and magnetism, a being that thrives on the adrenaline of adventure. But Toph, as if sensing Katara’s hesitation, slides her milky eyes over to her friend and smirks. “For real,” Toph says. “I know Zuko’s never been one for showing his emotions, but I’ve never sensed his heartbeat so at ease. He’s happy, and at peace.”

Katara shrugs. They’re in Ursa’s garden (at this point, Katara’s debating on just living here for the foreseeable future), and Katara is able to find her peace in the quacking of turtleducks, the quiet pull and flow of the water, and the sweet wind rustling through the leaves. The peace of the garden is able to settle the tumult of her own soul, and she’s able to drown out her walking nightmares.

“Yours too,” Toph pipes up, and Katara nearly chokes. “Despite everything, there’s a steadiness to your heartbeat that was never there before. Even with the trauma, there’s something in your soul that is happy.”   


Katara frowns. “I never told you about my trauma,” she says, and Toph sighs.

“Do you really think that you and Zuko were the only two who came out of this war with scars?”

The statement throws Katara off, and she stares at the slight earthbender in shock. She always knew Aang and Sokka were too pure to let the war bring them down too long. Suki definitely didn’t come out of the war unscathed, but the Kyoshi Warrior carried herself with pride and courage, and confiding in her felt too  _ wrong _ for Katara to drop all her emotional baggage on her. But Toph? It never really occurred to her that the greatest earthbender in the world would be troubled in the seasons after the war. The girl with mud caked in between her toes, with an attitude to rival the gods and the entire world within the palms of her hands. Katara stares, and Toph’s shoulders drop.

“Listen,” she says, setting down her cup. “I know it wasn’t easy for you. I know how much it hurt to have Aang be disappointed in you, to have your own brother be scared. Hama did a terrible thing to you, forcing such a terrible legacy onto your shoulders.”

Katara sighs. “I killed a lot of people,” she says hesitantly. But Toph’s face doesn’t hold any judgement, and she doesn’t shy away, so Katara continues. “Not just with bloodbending, but with the war itself. I didn’t want to, but sometimes I couldn’t help it. Sometimes a soldier would just impale himself on my ice blades, or take a water whip to the chest wrong. In a matter of life or death, I had to choose life, but in the process, I killed someone. And it just kills me. I see their faces at night, and I’m just so tired of still living in the war.”   
  
“We lost Suki on the airship raid,” Toph says suddenly. “Sokka and I had to keep going, but then we were surrounded by Fire Nation soldiers. Sokka and I fell, and he managed to catch me before I dropped to my death. I was dangling off the side of an airship, hundreds of feet off the ground, and I couldn’t see a goddamn thing. Sokka was severely injured, and weaponless. We were going to die in that moment.”

Katara’s heard this story before, but not quite as detailed as Toph is now describing to her. The earthbender is trembling, shoulders shaking as she tries to steady her hands. “I was so terrified,” she confesses to Katara. “I think that was the first time in my life where I was scared. Not just for me, but for Sokka, and Suki, and Aang. I didn’t want to die.” She takes a deep breath. “Luckily, Suki survived and managed to rescue us. But sometimes, I sense a firebender coming towards me and feel that fear rise up again. Sometimes I lie on the ground just to make sure I’m not free falling, just to feel the steady ground under my feet. And I write letters to Sokka all the time, to tell him how scared I was. I don’t send them, because they’re way too personal and Sokka doesn’t need to know that I was a scaredy cat, but sometimes it’s good to know that we survived that. Together.”   


Katara is struck. Toph seems to sense her confusion and smiles. "We do what we have to to survive," she says. "For you, that was building a life here, with the Fire Nation and with Zuko. For me, that was finding my parents again, trying to establish some level ground."

"Why didn't you talk to me about it?" Katara whispers.

Toph shrugs. "Because you didn't need me," she says. "You found comfort in Zuko, and I found comfort in being on the road. Sure, it would have been nice to talk to someone about it, but we figured it out, and we're both in better places because of it."

Katara can't help the twinge of guilt to surge through her, zapping her fingertips and sending an ache through her chest. "Still, Toph," she says, reaching out. She places a hand on the other girl's thigh, feels her muscles tense. "We're friends. You shouldn't have to go through that all by yourself."

Toph smiles brightly. "But that's the thing, Sugar Queen," she says. "I knew I was never alone." She bumps her shoulder against Katara's, and there's a little twinkle in her eyes. "I had Sokka and Suki, Appa and Momo. Even Aang was there for me. What I needed was their energy, their happiness. It was you who needed to figure out that you weren't alone. What  _ you  _ needed was someone who understood your pain, in ways we couldn't even fathom. You needed Zuko, not us."

Katara winces. "Still...," She begins, but Toph's hand shoots out, clamping down over her mouth.

"Shut up, Katara," she says goodnaturedly. "Stop thinking about everyone else in the world and focus on yourself for one goddamn minute. We're not kids anymore. We can take care of ourselves. And for the record, I'm proud of you for ending things with Aang."

"There was nothing to end," Katara grumbles, pulling away from Toph. 

Toph smirks. "Whatever. You know what I mean. He spent so long worshipping you, and I could tell all that admiration was beginning to suffocate you. He's too young for you, Katara, too innocent. He may have saved the world from devastation, but you and I both know he still needs a lot more growing up before he's ready to start any sort of relationship. He still has a lot to learn from life, and I'm glad you saw that. You would have been smothered."

Katara sighs. "I hurt him pretty badly," she points out, and Toph snorts.

"You can't shelter him forever, Sugar Queen. Twinkletoes may be the Avatar and all, but he's still a kid, and like I said, he has a lot to learn."

"I know," Katara says. "I guess it's just hard to lose him, you know? I never wanted to hurt him like that, but he's too young, and after a while, we would have hated each other."

Toph is quiet. "That's true," she says. "And I think he gets that now. He was really upset after he left, but after he took some time in the Earth Kingdom, I think he realized that your place was here, and his was with the rest of the world. I know it wasn't easy, but he's okay, and you're better off for it. I'm really proud of you."

Katara smiles. "Thank you, Toph," she whispers. Toph smiles, and pats Katara's hand. 

"Just remember what I said, ok? You worried about us for an entire season," she says. "You were the caretaker we always needed, doing whatever it took to keep our group together. You were our rock. But that time is over, and we need to put the past behind us. Now it's time for you to take care of yourself."

~0~

They visit the school. Zuko is positively preening, his eyes glinting with excitement as he peers through the curtain of the palanquin. To Katara, he looks like an excitable child, much like Aang, and she wonders, with a slight pang, if this is what Zuko looked like in the years before the chaos.

When they arrive in the lower city, Katara can already see the changes beginning to turn this part of the city anew. What had been a run down, deprived sector was now teeming with new life. The school was certainly a great idea, she notes, dodging a few scampering children, their cheeks chubby and ruddy with life. Toph groans, but there's a glow on her face as she maneuvers around the children.

"I gotta say, Sparky," Toph notes, nudging Zuko's shoulder. "This was a brilliant idea."

Zuko blushes, rubbing the back of his neck, but there's joy in his eyes as he takes in the schoolhouse. Vendors and merchants have set up their wares around the building, and people from all over the city are wandering the streets.

"With the schoolhouse, families from all over, nobility and all the rest have come to enroll their children here," Katara says. "With all the new traffic, more businesses are popping up to support the economy. With more money in the system, we can start to pay off some of the debts the country owes."

Zuko smiles. "This was a win on all fronts," he says. He takes Katara's hand and pulls her forward. "Come on," he murmurs. "I want to show you something."

He pulls her into the building, leaving Toph and their guards to follow close behind. When they enter the schoolhouse, Katara notes how quiet it is, but Zuko pulls her down empty halls until they reach a courtyard. Beyond the doors lies a giant tangle of children, running and screaming with joy. 

"Firelord Zuko!" A voice calls, and Katara turns, seeing the familiar face of Master Piandao striding towards them. Zuko inclines his head as Piandao bows low and Katara curtsies.

"Master Katara, Master Toph," Piandao acknowledges. He gestures to the writhing mass of children. "I see you've found the brats."

Katara laughs, dodging out of the way. "This school is thriving, Master Piandao," she says. "I'm so happy you've come here to help teach."

He smiles. "They're wearing me down, little by little," he says. His eyes slide over to Zuko. "They remind me much like you in a way, Firelord."

Zuko coughs. "I beg to differ."

Katara wanders away, letting Zuko and Piandao refresh themselves, and finds herself sitting next to two young girls. One is clearly Fire Nation, with her dark hair and golden eyes, but the other has Earth Kingdom heritage, bearing bright green eyes that burn with inquisitive intelligence. Katara watches the two girls chatter, and starts when the Earth Kingdom child opens her fist, showing the other one a tiny, flickering flame.

"Ah," a voice says, and she looks up, meeting the gaze of Jeong-Jeong. "I see you've found little Somin."

The two girls look up and brighten at the sight of the wizened firebender. "Master Jeong-Jeong!" The Earth Kingdom girl cries. "I was just showing Chaerin my flame of life!"

Jeong-Jeong nods, and beckons the two girls closer. "That's very good of you, Somin," he says. He nudges them towards Katara, and both girls turn their wide, curious gazes onto her. "I'd like you to meet another bender, and an old friend of mine. Girls, meet Master Katara."

Somin's eyes immediately widen. "Master Katara!" She squeals. "The hero of the Hundred Years' war!"

Chaerin grins, and her golden eyes flash. "I wanna be a waterbender!"

"Idiot!" Somin says goodnaturedly. "Everyone knows only people from the Water Tribes can be waterbenders."

Katara shakes her head, placing a hand on Chaerin's shoulder. "That's not quite true," she says, and Chaerin brightens. "While I was traveling with the Avatar, I met a group of people in the swamp located in the Earth Kingdom. None of them were from the Water Tribes, but they could all waterbend. It just depends on your spiritual affiliation."

Chaerin smiles. "I want a water affiliation! I'll be the best waterbender the world has ever seen!" She cries for joy, and the two girls go scampering off. Katara watches them go, an ache thrumming in her chest, but in a way that makes her blood sing for joy.

Life goes on.

Jeong-Jeong sits next to her. "Somin is the daughter of an Earth Kingdom peasant girl and a Fire Nation soldier," he says. "Neither were benders, but the two moved here to Caldera City once the war ended. Somin just started learning firebending, and shows a similar enthusiasm to that of the young avatar."

Katara shakes her head. "Who would've thought," she whispers. "I never imagined unity could come so easily amidst the war, but she's living proof of that."

Jeong-Jeong gives her a withering glance. "Oh?" He inquires, and gestures to where Zuko is now talking with a group of young children. One tries to yank the crown out of his hair, and he yells, but there's joy in his eyes. He wrangles the offender and picks him up, a little boy of no more than five, and whirls him around. Katara finds her heart warming, and Zuko pauses, as if sensing her gaze. He locks eyes with her, eyes softening.  _ I love you _ , he mouths.

"I think you and I both know that it's not as far fetched as you say," Jeong-Jeong continues. "Who's to say, if you and the young Lord found it, why can't someone else?"

Zuko disentangles himself from the mass of kids and comes up to her. "Master Jeong-Jeong," he says, bowing low. "It's good to see you."

Jeong-Jeong waves him off. "My pleasure, my Lord," he says, getting to his feet. "It's good to see you."

Toph sidles up while Zuko and Jeong-Jeong speak. "Hey," she says. "You and Zuko have done a really great thing here, Sugar Queen. I'm really proud of you."

Katara smiles, leaning into Toph's hard shoulder. "Thank you, Toph," she whispers.

"Aang would be proud of you too," Toph continues, and Katara stiffens. "And he can tell you that when he gets here."

Katara sighs. "You think?"

"Sugar Queen, if there's anything I know about Twinkletoes, it's that he can never stay mad at you. Not for long anyway."

~0~

When Aang arrives, Katara runs. She's not proud of it, but she remembers the pain in his eyes and the guilt pooling in her gut, and on the day she spies Appa's large bulk appearing in the sky, she flees from the palace. Toph is definitely going to mock her, and the image of Zuko's pleading and terrified gaze when he realizes that she's leaving him to greet Aang  _ alone _ haunts her. But the idea of seeing Aang again, even though he's apparently forgiven her, is too much to think about, and so, she hides.

Which is a very dumb idea, considering the fact that he's got Momo with him, and that lemur can sniff her out  _ anywhere _ . That's what she gets for playing mom to an entire group of kids and a lemur who's got a very strong nose.

He finds her late in the afternoon, practicing her kata in a secluded corner of the training grounds. When she spies the familiar blue arrow and smells the faint scent of fresh air on the breeze, she turns, and there he is, staff in hand and Momo on his shoulder. The lemur moves first, flying from Aang to land next to her, chittering and putting his paws on her leg.

She smiles, ignoring the pounding of her heart, and crouches down, scratching Momo behind the ears. She can sense Aang walking towards her, feel the nervous thrum of his heartbeat as he nears, the quick intake of breath. She focuses on Momo, feeling the warmth of his fur beneath his fingers, and steels herself. She looks up, and there it is, Aang's beautiful warm gaze meeting hers.

"Hi, Katara," he says, and that’s all it takes for her to fly off the ground and into his arms. It’s been three seasons since she saw him last, fall, winter, spring, and now that she’s in his arms she realizes he’s taller than her now, her head barely reaching his chin. He falters a bit once she throws her arms around him, but it only takes a moment for his arms to hesitantly rise around her. The familiar warmth of him invades Katara’s senses, and she breathes him in deeply, and for once, everything feels perfect.

He pulls away. “How are you?” He asks. There’s a thousand questions swirling within his eyes, all filtered down to simple phrase. He’s nervous, the anxiety making his limbs tremble, his voice hitch, but there’s also happiness in his eyes, like he finds joy to be able to finally be in her presence after being apart for so long, no matter the cause.

“I’ve been good,” she whispers. It's hard for her to talk to him, now that the energy of the moment has faded. The environment is suddenly too cold, too unfamiliar, and she's not sure how to speak. Aang, as if sensing her discomfort, smiles, and reaches out a hand. 

"Wanna go somewhere?" He asks, and she smiles. He always knows exactly what to say, and so she reaches out and takes his hand.

He takes her to Appa, and soon, they're little specks flying through the sky, high above the capital. Katara stares down at the palace, and wonders if Zuko is looking up from the mess of his office, searching for her too.

She rips her gaze away from the palace and looks at Aang. Appa grumbles from under her, his groan reverberating up through Katara's heart. Aang looks over to her, and there's so much emotion and nostalgia swimming in his eyes. He lets the reins down and comes over to sit next to her.

It’s horrendously quiet for a moment. Katara wracks her brain, trying to figure out something to say, but Aang beats her to it. He lays a hand on hers, fingers lacing through hers, and she looks up, meeting his gaze. “I want you to know, you’re not to blame for any of this,” he begins cautiously. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to come back. I wanted to, but I could never build up the courage to come back. Not until now.” His eyes drop to the scar standing out like a brand across her neck. 

She raises her hand, covering her scar. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she says, and he fervently shakes his head. 

“No!” He exclaims. “Never apologize! You nearly got killed, Katara! It’s me who’s sorry! I put myself on you, and didn’t even stop to think about you in the process! I was so lost in my happiness that I didn’t even think about yours, and my pride kept me away when I should’ve been here to help.”

She shakes her head. “Nothing you could’ve done, Aang,” she whispers sadly.

His hand reaches out, gently prying her fingers off her neck. “Hey,” he says, and she meets his gaze. “Please don’t hide that from me. You have nothing to hide from me, nothing at all. You’re my best friend, Katara, and I cannot lose you. I’m sorry that we were separated for so long, but I’m so proud of you and so happy that you’re doing well. Please believe me.”

He grins that crooked grin of his, the one from the beginning, and her heart melts. “It’s not your fault,” she says. “I shouldn’t have hidden my feelings for so long, and I should've told you from the beginning how I felt. It wasn’t fair to you to hold back for so long. I love you, Aang, really I do. I’m just not  _ in  _ love with you.”

He gives her a sad smile. “I know,” he says. “I think I’ve always known, but just denied it hoping that you did. But I see that now, you and I are not like that. We never were. And it’s something I’m learning to deal with, learning to move on.” He’s quiet for a moment. Then, “You’re in love with Zuko, aren’t you?”

She pauses, but the look in his eyes isn’t anger, nor jealousy. It’s calm and clear, if not a little sad. “Yes,” she says after a moment, not wanting to hide the truth from him. “I am.”

He smiles. “Zuko told me,” he informs her. “He told me that you guys got close after the war, and found comfort with each other. I’m happy you found someone to lean onto, Katara, in the ways I couldn’t. I guess I just wish you would have told me.”   


She sighs. “I didn’t know how,” she confesses. “Honestly, I still don’t. But I saw the happiness in yours and Sokka’s eyes, and I didn’t want to ruin it with my troubles. You guys went through enough as it is. I didn’t want to burden you even more.”

Aang coughs. “I know Toph already told you that you need to focus more on yourself, Katara,” he says, and Katara blushes. “So I don’t really need to tell you this, but I will. Friends are people who know everything there is about you and still love you no matter what. You’re not a burden, Katara, and I know for a fact that myself, Sokka, Suki and Toph would gladly listen to your troubles all day long if it helped you heal. You’re never alone.”

Katara is transported back to Ursa’s garden, with a full moon over her head and the autumn night hanging heavily over her like a woolen cloak. There’s the quacking of turtleducks, the warmth of a body pressed against hers, warm gold, and a whisper of  _ You don’t have to suffer through this alone _ .

She ducks her head. “I’m working on it,” she mumbles, and Aang chuckles. 

They fall into quiet companionship as Aang steers Appa back to the castle. They find Toph and Zuko waiting for them, with Zuko shirtless and sweaty, nursing a few bruises, and Toph, glorious as always, with not a single hair out of place. She grins when they land and spits, the earth cracking when it hits the ground.

“Took you two idiots long enough. Sparky over here postponed dinner until you got back.”

Katara laughs, hopping down from Appa’s back and siding over to Zuko. Aang follows close behind, stopping by Toph, who immediately latches on to him and pulls him into a headlock. Katara grins, leaving Aang to his fate (“Ouch Toph that  _ hurts!”), _ and inspects Zuko’s bruises. He watches her intently as she scans him over.

“You guys sparred?” Katara asks, poking at a bruise on his stomach. 

He sucks in a breath. “Yeah,” he grumbles, and Katara rolls her eyes, summoning some water from the air to run over his skin.

“Zuko, you should know by now never to challenge her. You’re just asking for a beating.”

He sends her a withering glare. “Can’t you be on my side for once?” he complains, and Katara laughs.

“Absolutely not, not when Toph is involved. Now come on, your majesty, I’m hungry.”

Zuko moans, but after a few minutes (of wrangling Toph and Aang apart), he leads them into the palace, hand in hand with Katara, and she feels her soul settle. In the tenderness of Zuko’s golden gaze, the lilting laugh coming from Toph’s mouth and the easy vibrance of Aang’s spirit, she feels her soul slowly stitching itself back together in the warmth of the summer heat.

~0~

She wakes up with another nightmare that night, heart pounding in her throat and whispers screaming in her ears. Before she can utter his name, Zuko’s already gathering her to him, arms holding her close while she shudders against his warmth. Through the gasps, she can hear him whisper to her, his gentle tone sinking into her bones and getting under her skin in the way he’s always been able to, in the way that only he seems to be able to. It is through his gentle mumbles against her skin that her breathing relaxes, and she’s able to make out what he’s saying.

“Breathe, Katara, breathe,” he says. “You’re okay, I got you. That’s my girl.” His words strike her to her core, and her heart flutters- as always, for him. She  _ is  _ his, and maybe she always has been. She may be a waterbender from the South Pole, sister to the Southern Water Tribe’s greatest strategic genius and best friend to the Avatar, but the Firelord of the Fire Nation is the only person who has seen inside her soul and held her heart in his hands. In the beginning, they were enemies, pitted against each other in order to save the world. They fought, mended hearts at Ba Sing Se, and found betrayal under the moon. They reunited, fought again, and helped the Avatar save the world. Somewhere, along the way, Katara unwittingly allowed Zuko into her soul, taking up residence and finding peace within all her broken pieces. Somewhere, along the way, she gave him her heart, and she knows she can never,  _ will  _ never, want it back.

She rolls over, meeting his sleepy gaze. He’s staring at her, love and concern pooling in his gentle eyes, and Katara leans in, kissing him. 

"I love you," she breathes, and he stiffens. This is the first time she's said it to him, but she knows with startling clarity that it's the truth (and maybe she's always known). He looks at her, and she smiles, pulling him back to her. "I love you Zuko," she breathes, and kisses him again. He responds instantly, warm arms wrapping around her and pulling her close. She allows herself to get lost in the labyrinth of his kisses, the reverie of his heat against hers. 

He wakes up properly after that, and Katara finds herself divested of her robe, her hands buried in his hair and his face between her legs. He’s got one, no, two fingers in her, and she’s crying out from the intensity and the heat of it, and presses up against his mouth until she’s seeing stars.

He crawls up her body afterwards, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He presses up against her, panting out  _ I love you’s  _ into her shoulder as she pushes off his sleeping pants. He looks at her, the hard length of him pressing deliciously against her core, making her pulse with want. “Are you sure?” he breathes against her skin.

“I trust you.” She whispers, cupping his cheek and kissing him.  _ I love you. _

Zuko smiles and kisses her. He takes her hands in his, lacing their fingers as he angles his hips carefully, pushing into her. Katara’s head falls back and she gasps. The weight of him in her burns within her, a mind-numbing pleasure, and she moans his name. His teeth graze her neck, kissing lightly over her scar, and she feels his heart pounding in his chest as he presses against her.

“You okay?” he whispers.

She mewls. “More,” is what she manages to whisper, her heart pounding against her chest, matching the frenzied rhythm of his own. Zuko sets a pace, slow but intense, with hard thrusts that make her feel like she's going to implode into a ball of fire and starlight. She hooks her ankles around his back, moaning and whispering  _ please  _ into the sweaty skin of his throat. 

Katara’s orgasm comes fast and silent, her head tilted back, chest heaving, heart pounding. Zuko follows quickly, cursing into her neck. His hips stutter once, twice, before he holds her against him and freezes, his body shuddering.

He tries to roll off her so as to not crush her, but she refuses to relinquish the warmth of him just yet. She hooks her arms behind his neck and pulls him down, unwinding her legs from his so he settles on her, his warmth radiating off him like a heated blanket. He presses sloppy kisses on her neck and shoulder, and she smiles into his skin.

“You’re good?” he asks softly, raising his head up to stare at her questionly. Katara smiles, and holds him a little tighter, letting him feel her heart flutter.

“Perfect.”

He smiles, leaning in, and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She holds him close, running her fingers through his hair, listening as he whispers  _ Katara, Katara, Katara,  _ against her lips like her name is a poem. When he pulls away, he whispers “I love you,” and tucks her hair behind her ear before rolling over. 

She snuggles into his side, and his arm immediately finds its place around her shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispers, and he looks at her. “For being there for me.”

His eyes soften. “I’ll always be there for you,” he says, and she falls a little bit more in love with him just for saying that.

She lays her head against his skin, listening to the song of his heart and traces her fingers on his scar. “Do you regret it?” She asks. “The war, and what we did to survive?”

He frowns. His hand finds hers, stilling its path across his skin, brings her fingers up to his mouth, kissing her palm. “No,” he says finally. “I don’t. Uncle always said it’s never good to linger in the past, that what matters is the future.”

He turns his head, and smiles. “Plus,” he whispers. “Every choice we made led us here. I wouldn’t change a single thing. Everything I did brought me here with you. That’s something I’ll never give up.”

He leans in, kissing her softly. “Go to sleep, Katara,” he says. “I’ll be here.”

She closes her eyes. “I love you, Zuko,” she whispers, and falls into a deep sleep where the demons can’t follow, where there’s warmth at her back and a gentle hand running through her hair, where a boy of fire protects her from the darkness and tattoos love into her soul.

~0~

“So,” Kai says. “You and the Firelord are together now, huh?”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Shut up, Kai,” she says dryly, shoving his shoulder. “I did not bring you out to the rim just so you could make fun of me. Now don’t make me shove you into the ocean.”

Kai does his best to look affronted, which is quite the feat considering the fact that Katara can’t see his eyes. “You wouldn’t,” he gasps. “The great Katara shoving her patient over the side of the island? What has this world come to?”

Katara laughs. “I’ll just tell them you were being annoying,” she jokes. “It was warranted.”

He laughs, and Katara turns back to look at the ocean. It’s a beautiful summer day, the water is a deep shade of azure, and there are wispy clouds dancing across the sky. The sun beats down on Katara’s bare shoulders, and she can already feel the gentle burn as the rays pierce her skin. She hikes up her silk skirts, letting the warm summer breeze caress her legs like a lover’s embrace, and inhales the delicious salty fragrance of her element. The ocean calls to her, pushes and pulls at her soul like Tui and La in the Spirit Oasis.

“How are you?” Kai asks. “I heard about the assassination attempt.”

Katara sighs. “Doing better,” she whispers. “It’s just... hard.”

He nods. “It will always be. But remember what I said, Katara. The war has made you stronger and wiser. You’re a healer, Katara, and a warrior. I know this is something you've struggled with in the past, but you and I both know that these parts do not have to conflict.  Bloodbending- the dark side of it- does not define who you are.  _ You're a lady of mercy,  _ and that, Katara, is your legacy.”

She smiles. “You’ve been a wonderful friend, Kai, and a great comfort,” she says, and reaches out, touching his arm gently so she doesn’t surprise him. He grins, and leans in, and she hugs him, feels the steady beat of his heart under her fingers. He holds her tightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He laughs. “You’d find a way,” he says. “I know you, and you never give up.” He pulls away, and smiles down towards her. “Plus, you have Toph, and you have Zuko. The Firelord would pluck the moon from the sky for you, Katara. With a love like that, nothing can go wrong.”

She smiles. “I wish it were that easy.”

“It can be,” he says. “I don’t know much, but there’s one thing I’m sure about. After the war, I had no hope about healing. I didn’t care that I was blind, that I survived-nothing mattered to me any more. But then you showed me kindness, showed me love, and with each passing day, I learned to love myself again, learned to heal and love life again. Without your love and friendship, I never would have healed from what the war took from me.”

He grins. “You’ve got to embrace love and compassion in the face of disaster,” he says. “That’s the key to healing- embracing love and knowing it doesn’t hurt or offend, it heals and empowers you to keep going on, keep living.”

His words follow her as she makes her way up to Azula’s chambers. She doubts she’ll find Zuko here- it’s been months since Azula “woke” up, and he’s yet to make an appearance. Katara knows he’s scared, unsure of what he’ll find, if she’ll be the undamaged little sister he’s missed, or still be the girl who shot lightning at him. He’d come with Katara to the hospital today to check up on some of the generals wounded in the battles, and it comes to her as a shock to find Captain Mako and his guards missing from Azula’s room, the door wide open, and the gentle rasp of Zuko’s voice within, followed by the clear ringing voice of his sister.

She approaches the door cautiously and peeks in, not wanting to disturb them. She spies Zuko sitting in her habitual spot, and Azula leaning against the window. Zuko is sipping from a steaming cup of tea, and his crown gleams in the sunlight. Katara studies them. It’s easy to see the resemblance in their faces, the slim nose, the angle of their eyes, but there’s a gentleness in Zuko’s face that is the exact opposite of the tension in Azula’s. 

“I don’t know,” Zuko is saying. He runs his hand through his hair. “I’ve managed to keep the Earth Kingdom from pressing charges against you, Azula, but I’m not sure-”

“I’m not asking to come back to the palace, Zu-Zu,” Azula says, rolling her eyes. “Boy, you can be so dense sometimes. Like hell I want to be back in that place. We’re better off burning it to the ground.”

“That would defeat the purpose,” Zuko points out blandly. “I do live there, you know.”

Azula waves him off. “Nonsense,” she says blithely. “Build a new one.”

Zuko pales. “Uhm,” he begins, and Azula laughs. Azula’s laughter is something Katara has never experienced before- her real laughter. Without the weight of her father’s will beating on her shoulders and the pain of insanity pulled from her mind, her laughter is light and clear, like a stream running full after a rainstorm.

“That was a joke, big brother,” Azula says. “Was that not funny for you? I’ve been working on my humor, and I certainly think  _ it  _ was funny.” 

Zuko groans. “You haven’t changed,” he complains, and Azula’s shoulders fall. He catches her deflate, and his face grows hard. 

“You’re wrong,” Azula says. “I have. And so have you. This whole world has been spun on its axis thanks to the mess Father made.”

Zuko sighs. “I know,” he confesses. “But I’m working to make it better.”

Azula nods. “I know,” she says. After a minute, “You’ve got some good help.”   


From this distance, Katara can’t see Zuko’s expression too well, but she sees the relaxation of his shoulders, the small half-grin touching his lips. “I know,” he says. “She’s been really great.”

They’re talking about her.

“You know,” Azula says, abandoning her post by the window and taking up her usual spot on the couch. “She did a lot for me.”

Zuko nods. “No,” Azula says. “She did a lot for me. As much as I hate showing weakness to the enemy,  _ especially _ to the waterbender who did me in, I am very grateful for her help. She pulled me from the darkness, especially when she could’ve let me rot.”   


Katara’s breath is in her throat as Zuko reaches out hesitantly, gently touching his fingertips to Azula’s pale hand. “That’s Katara,” he whispers. “She doesn’t give up on people who need her, no matter what they’ve done.”   


Azula is quiet. “She’s good for you too,” she notices, and Zuko flushes. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. “She is.”   


Azula’s eyes narrow, and Katara is reminded of the Agni Kai. But there’s no anger, no hysteria in her eyes this time. “You better take care of her,” Azula notes. “That girl, she’s been through a lot. She needs you, just as you need her. Do not mess this up.”

Azula’s eyes slide to the door, and Katara realizes that the princess has known she’s been there the entire time. She meets the princess’ gaze, and the sides of her lips quirk into a smile. “After all, the two of you belong together, do you not?” Katara knows this question is for her, and can see it in Azula’s eyes. And when Zuko nods in affirmation, she finds herself pinned down by Azula’s calm gaze, and she wordlessly whispers  _ Yes. _

~0~

Aang disappears after a few days. Katara is seething, thrown back to when Zuko disappeared on her, but Toph doesn't know where he is, or least of all, she doesn't  _ tell _ Katara where he is. When she tries to confront Zuko about it, he holds his hands up and says, "He'll be fine, Katara, I promise! He's just helping me with something," and refuses to say anymore.

She finds herself back in her room, hiding out from the summer heat that hangs in the air like a heavy smog. It’s slightly cooler in her room, no doubt due to the ice block she’s got sitting in the corner, battling off the heat that threatens to overwhelm her. 

She hates summer sometimes.

She finds Sokka’s most recent letter, eyes falling on his promise to make it to the palace before her birthday. She’ll be turning eighteen in the next few days, that’s certainly not enough time for Sokka and the rest of her family to arrive. She purses her lips, letting his letter fall to her dresser and collapses into her bed, falling face first into the sheets. 

She’s almost forgotten about her birthday. She didn’t even celebrate her last one, since it was so close to the comet, and celebrating it seemed trivial compared to the fate of the world. Aang and Toph didn’t know about it, and certainly not Zuko. Katara can hardly believe it’s been a year since the world changed, since she found a home in Zuko and pioneered a new beginning for the Fire Nation. But time will always plow forward, and so, another year, another birthday.

She rolls over. She won’t tell Zuko, she decides. There’s no real point anyway, just another year under her belt. There’s no point in giving Zuko another thing to focus on. She briefly thinks about Toph, whispering  _ stop thinking about everyone else in the world and focus on yourself for one goddamn minute,  _ but brushes it off. She is thinking about herself. She doesn’t really find anything worth celebrating about her birthday. Not this time.

She looks down at the floor, spying the dark stain of blood across the carpet that servants hadn’t yet managed to get. The unnamed assassin lost his life at her hands here, she remembers. This is all that’s left of him, a bloody stain across her floors. Another human life, taken by her own hands.

Kai’s voice whispers in her ear.  _ You do not have the hands of a killer.  _

Zuko.  _ You are many things, Katara. A warrior, a healer, a friend and a lover. But you are not a killer. _

Toph and Aang. _ Friends are people who know everything there is about you and still love you no matter what. _

She stares at the stain. She remembers the life of the assassin, pulsing weakly under her fingers, and Hian’s blood coming to a halt under her grip as she threw him into Zuko’s sword. She thinks of Zhu Lin, trembling under her grip as she crushes his dreams to destroy Zuko’s legacy. She thinks of Yon Rha, of the Southern Raiders’ captain, of all the nameless soldiers who fell under her hand. The darkness swirls around her, the echoes of war whispering in her ear. 

She thinks of Zuko.  _ You’re the purest person I know. _

She opens her eyes, glaring down at the bloodstain, and the whispers falter. “I’m not afraid of you,” she mumbles quietly to herself. She stands, resolve pooling in her gut, and clenches her fists. “You may be a part of me, but there I have nothing to fear. Because I know my heart, and this power, and I will do good by it. You  _ can’t  _ destroy me.”

The darkness rears back, and she smirks. She thinks of Hama, whispering cruel words in her ear, but she remembers the pure beating of Yue’s heart in time with hers, the quiet breath of water singing in her soul, and she looks down at the bloodstain. “I’m stronger than you,” she breathes, and stretches out a hand. “And you don’t define me. Not anymore.”

She pulls, and the blood flies out of the carpet. It pools in her hand, a little puddle of red swimming in the dark brown of her palm. She can feel the war ghosts tugging at her soul, but she lifts a hand. “You can’t hold me back anymore,” she whispers, and flicks her hand. The darkness fades, and the blood disappears into the atmosphere. 

She feels her shoulders rise. The darkness will always be a part of her, she realizes. It’s an integral part of her, something that was born to life the minute Yon Rha took her mother. But she’s let it control how she lives her life for the past year- let her define her actions and control everything. No more.

She lifts her eyes, watching the sunlight streaming in through the window. She raises a hand, touching the scar at her throat. She thinks about Zuko’s scars, of Aang’s torn back. She once said scars were memories, battle wounds that leave their mark on the soul. And it’s true, scars remind them of all they went through, but they’re also a reminder that they survived even the deepest of wounds. The scar on her throat is a testament of her hard-won life, a reminder that the damage life inflicted on her has left her stronger and more resilient. 

She smiles.  _ This scar,  _ she thinks.  _ This scar is not a blemish, not something to be embarrassed of. This is a trophy. _

~0~

She kisses Zuko in front of everyone. Because she loves him with all her heart, because he stood by her side while she fought her unseen war, battled the storm raging within their hearts at her back, and helped her make sense of all her broken parts. Because he sent Aang to the South Pole, and there’s Sokka, and Suki, and Hakoda, and Pakku, and  _ Gran-Gran. _

She can hardly believe her eyes, but there Sokka is, enveloping her in a warm hug, and she’s burying her face in the soft fur of his coat, feeling the stubble brushing her cheek, the strength in his arms as he lifts her up. And then her father is there, tears in his eyes as he holds his two kids, and Katara has never quite felt her soul at ease than being back in the arms of her family. She breathes in the smell of sea and tiger-seal, of the steel at Hakoda’s hip and the jerky on Sokka’s breath, and  _ cries. _

“Oh Katara,” Hakoda says, running a rough palm in her hair. “Oh my brave, brave warrior,” he whispers, holding close. “I missed you.”   


She smiles through the tears, and goes to greet Pakku and Gran-Gran. Pakku bows low, giving her a smile and pulling her into a hug. He whispers  _ I’m so proud of you _ in her ear, before passing her off to her grandmother, who pulls her close.

“My Katara,” she whispers, running her hands down Katara’s back. “My sweet, brave girl.”

Katara cries into her grandmother's shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of Jasmine and spice. "I'm sorry," she cries. "I didn't mean to stay away this long." 

She distantly hears Zuko and Aang shuffling everyone off to the dining hall, where Zuko had his chefs prepare a traditional Water Tribe dinner. She sends him a silent thank you, appreciating the moment he gives her alone with her grandmother.

"Oh sweetheart," Kanna says, pulling away from Katara so she could look at her. "No, baby, you had to. Your home is here."

Katara shakes her head. "But Gran-Gran-"

Kanna shushes her. "Katara, my child," she says. "You made a life for yourself here. You didn't need to come home, and that's alright. I never expected you to stay in the South. You have a wandering soul, I can't tie you down to a place that no longer needs you."

Katara wipes her eyes. " I shouldn't have stayed away for so long."

Kanna smiles. "You never truly left," she says, dabbing at Katara's cheeks. "Your spirit is everywhere at the South Pole, in our people, in the ice, in the fish we hunt. It's okay Katara, because no matter where you wander, where your heart decides to rest, there will always be a part of you here," she smiles, and rests a hand on her heart. 

Katara manages a smile, and her grandmother hugs her close. "Come now, child," she whispers. "Let's go find the others."

They find Zuko and the others in the dining hall. Sokka is scarfing down the leopard shark, while Aang and Toph make faces at the sea prunes. Suki is sipping from her bowl primely, making conversation with Pakku and Hakoda, and Zuko presides over it all, sipping from his cup amidst all the familiar chaos.

His eyes seek her out immediately, as if drawn to her presence. He rises, and reaches out a hand. Katara feels her grandmother's hand on her shoulder, a quiet breath of  _ go to him _ , and she flies forward, her hand slotting into its rightful place nestled in his own.

He smiles, and clears his throat, and everyone that makes up her family turns their gaze on him. He coughs. "I'll make this short," he says, and squeezes her hand. "Thank you for all coming. I know this was kind of last minute, but I wanted you all to be here. Katara has made this last year here so much more vibrant that it could have been, and I'm so grateful for her providing that much needed support and comfort by my side." He looks at her. "Thank you," he says. "For everything."

Sokka raises a glass. "To Katara!" He cheers, and the table erupts in laughter. Katara smiles, her soul aglow, and sits down next to Zuko. His hand finds its way to her thigh under the table, and she meets his warm gaze.

"Thank you," she murmurs. She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

He smiles. "Happy birthday," he breathes against her mouth. "I love you."

Her eyes widen, and he grins. He nods towards Sokka, who's currently hugging Suki close, a light blue fan dangling on a green choker around her neck. They look happy, and there's a light in Sokka's eyes as he kisses Suki's cheek.

"Did you really think you were the only one corresponding with Sokka this past year?" He whispers teasingly in her ear. His hot breath tickles her skin and she squirms. "He told me he didn't want to miss your birthday, and let me know when. I figured I'd pull all the stops to make it happen. Aang helped me with it."

She blinks, eyes slotting over to where Aang is laughing goodnaturedly with Toph. He meets her gaze, eyes softening, and mouths  _ happy birthday.  _ She blinks back tears and nods, and he smiles.

Zuko's hand on her thigh pulls her back to the present. "Is that okay?" He asks, eyes searching hers for clarity. "I didn't want to overstep-"

She kisses him. "This is perfect, Zuko," she whispers. " I love you." 

He smiles, and leans his forehead against hers. She spends the rest of the dinner surrounded by the people she loves most in the world, with the warmth of Zuko's hand on her leg keeping her anchored.

Later, she's lying on her stomach under Zuko's silk sheets, pleasantly sated. She pillows her head on her arms and watches Zuko as he wanders around the room, lighting the candles. There's a robe slung haphazardly over his shoulders, which makes Katara frown. When he nears, she reaches over, tugging it down, so it bares his naked body. He looks down and chuckles, abandoning his task, and crawls onto the bed, sliding up her body with hooded eyes.

“Katara,” he murmurs, kissing the swell of her breast. She smiles, carding her fingers through his hair. He looks up at her, lips pressed to her skin and eyes brimming with love, and she tugs him up, crashing her lips against his. 

They lose themselves in the kiss for a while. She runs her fingers down his smooth back, he cups her cheeks, and all the while, Katara listens to the soundtrack of his heart beating to the same rhythm of hers. 

He pulls away and rolls off her, chest heaving. Katara smiles, wiping the sweat off his forehead and cuddling up to him. He grins down at her, eyes soft, and cups her cheek.

"I have something for you," he says. She purses his lips and props herself up as he sits up, leaning over and rummaging in the drawers of his nightstand. It only takes a moment's breath, and he's back, pulling her close. They roll for a moment while he situates himself, and she finds herself propped up against his chest, legs caging her in, arms around her. He presses a kiss to her temple and raises his hands, holding up her mother's necklace.

She gasps. The blue suede had been ruined in the scuffle, and the clasp holding the pendant together had been crushed. Now, her mother's necklace is hugged on a bed of woven gold, dangling on a golden chain studded with rubies. 

"Zuko..." She starts, turning her head. He smiles down at her, kissing her cheek.

"I wanted to give it the honor it deserves," he explains. "The woman who wore this before would be proud of who you are. Your mother was a brave woman, and so are you."

She leans up and kisses him, unable to find the words for what this means to her. He leans against her, murmuring  _ I love you _ into her skin, before fastening the chain around her neck, kissing her skin. It doesn't hug her throat like a choker though, and she frowns.

"What?" She asks, rolling away from him to rest against the pillows. Zuko reclines next to her, one hand propping his head up. He blinks and reaches for her neck, pulling the necklace down so it rests in the crook of her neck, and traces her scar, which is in full display.

"I didn't want this to be covered," he explains. "You should never hide that from the world. No one is braver than you, and that scar symbolizes your will to never give up."

Her heart warms. She pulls him down, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "Thank you, Zuko," she breathes. "I couldn't have asked for a better birthday."

He smiles. "You deserve it."

He dims the candles with a flick of his hands, and she cuddles up against him as they settle to sleep. She listens to the sound of his breathing as it evens out, his body curled up against hers. She finds his face in the night light, his face relaxed as he drifts off. She cups his scar, feeling the ridges and whorls of his hardships under her fingertips, and presses a kiss to his forehead.

No doubt he knows what the necklace signifies, that in the Water Tribe's eyes, he's basically proposing to her. While she knows that wasn't his intent, her soul knows that there is no other person she'd rather be tied to, to share hearts with. She knows he's her future, that she's found a home in the Fire Nation, living alongside the boy who took lightning for her. She knows this as sure as the blood surging through her veins, and knows it's only a matter of time. Still, she settles against the sheets and twines her hand through his, closing her eyes. She doesn't care how long it will take him, she'll gladly wait a lifetime, until balance is settled in the world and he's secure in his throne. Waiting will be easy for her, knowing that he'll be there for her at the end.

After all, he waited for her. So she's going to do the same.

~0~

A few weeks pass, and change once again stirs within the palace. The ministers are begging Zuko to hold a ball to commemorate a year since Sozin's Comet, and after much deliberation, he finally relents. Katara finds the palace in a frenzy following the news, and letters come in from all the friends they've made in all four corners of the world. Uncle Iroh returns for the ball, and he’s swarmed by Toph and the rest of the gang. Katara barely gets a word in before he, too, is swept up in the preparations.

She's hiding out in Ursa's garden when Sokka finds her, crouched by the cherry tree and feeding the turtleducks. They quack upon his approach, and she barely looks up as Sokka flops down next to her.

“Hey lil sis,” he says, and she looks over to him. He’s wearing a red tunic, similar to the one he wore when they went incognito, but now his head is shaved and there is a wolf tail in the place of a topknot. There’s a hint of stubble on his chin, and he looks tired, no doubt from all the stress palace life brings, but there’s a certain happiness in his gaze that she can only attribute to a Kyoshi Warrior with a heart of gold.

“Sokka,” she says, and he reaches out, punching her in the shoulder the way all siblings do. She laughs, ducking away from him, and he grins. They scuffle for a few moments, disturbing the turtleducks, who quack and flee in distress, before finally settling in a pile next to the water.

“I missed you,” he says, eyes soft. He brushes her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. His hand drops down to her throat, fingers dancing across their mother’s pendant. “Mom would be so incredibly proud of you.”

She lowers her eyes. “You too, Sokka,” she says. “We both would have made her proud.”

He’s quiet, and she looks up, finding his gaze pinned to the scar on her skin. His hand skims her neck, tracing the scar, and she reaches up, clasping his in hers. He’s trembling, and he finds her gaze. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”

She shakes her head. “I wasn’t alone,” she says. “I had Zuko, and you were here, in spirit. I know that now.”   


His hand clenches. “Zuko told me about the nightmares,” he whispered. His eyes look pained. “Katara, I had no idea how tortured you were. I know it was hard on you, but I never understood how much this war took from you. What Hama did, and how thoughtless I was-”   


She cuts him off. “You weren’t thoughtless,” she says. “You’re right, bloodbending is dangerous and deadly, and it’s easy to be sucked in between the lines, the gray area where good and bad blurs together. I almost let myself be sucked into the dark side of it.”

Sokka’s eyes darken. “But?”

“But I had friends,” she says, thinking of Kai and Zuko, even Azula. “They helped me realize that bloodbending can be helpful as it is cruel. I just have to choose it for the right reasons.”   


She feels the darkness rise a bit within her, begging to display the fierceness of bloodbending. She can feel it tug at her power, begging her to show Sokka just how powerful she can be. But she shoves it down, the thought of Zuko giving her strength. Never again, she promises herself. Never again.

Sokka regards her carefully. “For whatever it’s worth,” he says finally. “I’m proud of you. And nothing you could do,  _ nothing _ , will ever change that.”

She smiles, and leans in, resting her head against his shoulder. His heart pounds a steady melody to her ears, and he pulls her close. 

“And by the way,” she says. “I’m really happy for you and Suki.”

She feels the deep reverberations of his laugh echo into her soul. “Me too,” he says. “I just- Spirits, Katara, I just love her so much. She’s so powerful, and resilient, and I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“Toph told me how you guys almost lost her on the air raid.”

Sokka trembles. “Yeah,” he says. “It was the worst feeling I’ve ever felt in awhile. I thought I lost part of my soul.”

She knows the feeling. It’s like the minute she saw Zuko standing in the alley, Blue Spirit mask adorning his face as Hian passed judgement with a sweep of his sword. The idea of losing the person who makes up your other half is like a wave of pain that hits you in the gut, settling in your brain like poison and robbing the breath out of your lungs.

“But she came back, you know,” Sokka continues. “And I knew in that moment I was going to spend the rest of my life with that girl. She just, completes me- and I know you’re gonna say that sounds crazy, but just hear me out. Before I met Suki, I was a bit of an ass-” she snorts, and he shushes her “-But Suki put me in my place, and continues to do so. Fuck, Katara, I don’t know where I’d be without her. She makes me a better person.”

Katara sits up, looks at Sokka through new eyes. He’s watching her, biting his lip, but there’s a sureness in his gaze, resolution in his eyes that burns. She knows the feeling.

“I’m so happy for you,” she says “I’m so happy you and Suki found each other. Love is the greatest thing to bind two people together, and I‘m so happy you found it with her.”

Sokka smiles. “And you found it with Zuko, didn’t you,” he says, and Katara flushes. “Don’t try to deny it lil sis. Zuko already confessed.”

Her head snaps up, and he laughs. “I’ve known for a bit now, sis,” he says. “Zuko made sure to ask permission once things began with you two. Dad and I weren’t sure at first, but Lord Hotpants over there can be quite persuasive in his letters. Not that Zuko needs permission, but it’s nice to know he wants the okay from family before he decides to court you.”

She groans. “Sokka-”

“If he makes you happy,” Sokka interrupts. “Then that makes me happy. That’s all I want for you, Katara, is to find your place in the world. He makes you happy, lil sis. As long as he continues to do so, then I support it.”

She frowns. “That’s surprisingly mature, even from you,” she says.

He laughs. “Suki,” he says, as if that explains everything. Which, it does.

He stands, stretching his back, before looking down at her. “You found a home here,” he says. “It’s where you belong. Side by side with him. And I’m happy, Katara, and so proud. You always have a place within the Water Tribe, but the Fire Nation, and its leader, needs you more than we do.”

~0~

The night of the ball Katara finds herself in Gran-Gran’s suites. Pakku has already made his way down to the ballroom, shortly followed by her father and Sokka. Suki and Toph were still getting ready, and Aang and Zuko were preparing to open the ball to the nobles, ministers, and the rest of the city. Katara knew that the citizens of Caldera probably wouldn’t enter the ballroom itself, but she enjoyed seeing them wander the courtyards and revel in the beauty of the palace. The Fire Nation is an old, strict country, rich in culture and history, but stiff in tradition, and she knows it’ll take a little more time for them to shorten the gap between the nobility and the rest of the nation. 

She knows it’ll change. She’ll make it happen. With Zuko to support her, she’ll turn this country into a new creature, with new traditions and new life. It’s what she does. 

Gran-Gran enters the room, holding a dress in her arms. She deposits the dress next to Katara, who gasps when she sees the dress in its entirety.

“Gran-Gran,” she whispers, reaching out and touching the navy blue silk. “This is beautiful.”

Her grandmother smiles. “I worked on it after you decided to stay in the Fire Nation. I had a feeling that an occasion would arise where you’d need something like this.”

Katara looks up, and there’s a twinkle in her grandmother’s eyes. She reaches out, pulling Katara into a hug, and touches the pendant at her throat. “That boy loves you, you know?”

Katara smiles, wiping the tears out of her eyes. “Yes,” she breathes. “I know.”

“And you love him?”

She nods. “Yes. I think I’ve loved him from the very beginning.”

She doesn’t know the exact moment she fell in love with Zuko, but she knows that from the moment she laid eyes on him, phoenix tail and burning eyes, that her soul would be linked with his, their futures mingling together like leaves on the vine. 

Her grandmother smiles, and cups her cheek. “Good,” she says. “Then that’s all that matters.”

Gran-Gran helps her into the dress. It’s dark navy, like the ocean, and falls down around her form like the water she bends. She doesn’t know how her grandmother got her hands on such expensive silk, but she’s got a feeling Zuko’s involved. She’ll get the answer out of him. The silk reminds her of him, and she smiles as the dress falls around her. The sleeves end at points on her hands, cuts down to a point on her chest, and there are little beads sewn into the fabric. She recognizes the handiwork of her father’s carving, the meticulous shape of his knife on the eelwhale bone. The beads are heavy on the bodice, dyed the same shade as the silk, and fade as they fall down her dress, going from sea-blue, to light aquamarine, to ice, and snow. The dress is a testament to her homeland, made from the creatures of her ocean and dyed the color of the element she bends. But it’s also made from Fire Nation silk, and is built for the humid heat of the nation, not her homeland. It’s a beautiful blend of both cultures and represents who Katara is now. A girl of the Southern Water tribe with a heart that burns with the passion of the Fire Nation.

Her grandmother pulls her hair back, letting her hair loops frame her face, and tying part of it into a topknot. The rest falls down her back in loose waves. When she’s ready, she leaves for the ballroom with her grandmother and Toph and Suki, and Katara feels her heart beating a joyful song when she arrives to find the room aglow. Candles burn in the sconces, and there are little strung candles hanging from the ceiling, reflecting the night sky. 

They quickly find Sokka and her father, and her grandmother is whisked away by Pakku for a dance. Aang appears, and he and Toph disappear into the shadows, no doubt getting away for the rest of the night. Hakoda leaves to speak with the ministers, but not before placing a kiss on her temple and a  _ you look beautiful _ whispered in her ear.

Sokka goes to find drinks, and she’s left alone with Suki. The Kyoshi Warrior looks radiant, forgoing her uniform for a simple green wrap dress, with golden armbands and golden fans sewn into the hem. There's a fan that dangles at her throat, proud as the girl who bears it, and Katara thinks Suki will make the most perfect wife.

“I love your brother,” Suki says, and Katara smiles at her. “I just want you to know, Katara, I will look after him and protect him with everything I have, whatever it takes. I promise you.”

Katara smiles, and leans in for a hug. “I know you will, Suki. You’re the sister I’ve always wanted. Sokka deserves a good person like you.”

Suki’s eyes twinkle, and she nods at something behind Katara. “You too,” she says, and Katara turns, finding Zuko standing behind her, his eyes wide and mouth gaping as he takes her in. Suki coughs, and Sokka arrives, glasses of ice wine in his hand. 

“Katara!” Zuko says, coughing. “You look beautiful.”

She laughs, taking the glass of wine Sokka offers her and sips, letting her eyes rove over Zuko. He’s dressed in his formal robes, similar to the ones he wore at the spring celebration, but there’s a blue sash tied around his waist this time, and his collar is open, like he’s already tired of the stuffiness of formality.

Suki elbows Katara, giving her a knowing look. “Come on, Sokka,” she says, taking him by the arm. “I want to dance.” She looks back at Katara, eyes smiling.  _ He’s all yours _ they say, and Katara sees her off with a smile, Sokka grinning stupidly as he leaves.

She turns her attention back to Zuko. He steps closer, taking her hand. “You,” he whispers, bending down and breathing into her ear. “Are the most stunning person in this room.”

She shudders from his heat, and he pulls away, extending a hand. “Come with me,” he says. “I want to show you something.”

She wordlessly takes his hand, letting him lead her out of the ball room, past the guards, down the hall and out to the courtyard. She knows where he’s taking her, can feel it in his sure steps as he turns the corner, and she finds herself standing in Ursa’s garden.

He leads her to the pond’s edge. The moon shines above them, bathing the garden in a silver glow, making Zuko’s eyes gleam and her dress twinkle. They stand, a girl wreathed in blue and a boy doused in crimson.

He sighs, and takes her hands. His arms are trembling, and she can feel his heart pounding, his blood racing in his veins. She frowns, leaning in. “Zuko, what’s-”

“I love you, Katara,” he blurts out. He grips her hands, squeezing, and she looks into his eyes. “I know you and I had a rocky start, and trust was something I had to earn, but this past year has taught me how much I need you in my life. You have been with me through the very worst of it, saving me from Azula’s lightning, and shining your light on this nation’s dark future. I want to spend my life with you, Katara.”

Her heart pounds to a stop, and Zuko produces from within his robes a headpiece that can be only one thing.

“This is a crown for the Firelady,” Zuko says, taking her hand and placing the headpiece in it. “It’s tradition for each Firelord to make his Firelady’s crown, to symbolize his dedication to her. I- and the blacksmith in town- fashioned this from the Fire Opals that are mined deep under this volcano.”

If Katara remembers correctly, Fire Opals are created from the intense heat of the magma, causing the groundwater to evaporate and mold the remaining minerals. It's only fitting that Zuko would choose the one stone that is created from the two of their elements working in tandem.

What's that the spirits always stressed? Balance.   


The crown is a crescent moon, the moon of the Water tribe. The stone that makes up the moon is silvery, but when angled, flashes with all the colors of the rainbow. The stone is fluid and reminds Katara of moonlight reflected upon the waves crashing against Ember Island.

She raises her gaze. “A moon?” she asks hesitantly, and Zuko smiles.

“You’re a lady of the Water Tribe, Katara,” he says. “I would celebrate your heritage, not hide it away under a crown of fire. The moon is the symbol of your people, the symbol of who you are. I will not deny that from you. If you became Firelady, I would welcome you as the Lady of the Moon.”

His eyes soften, and he steps in close, clasping her hands and holding the headpiece close. “I told you, last autumn, that you don’t have to go through your pain alone. You were by my side when I thought I didn’t have anyone, helped me through the mess I made. It’s you and me,” he says softly. “We’ve been through everything together. We’ve made it through the war stronger than we were before it. I know that we’re both a mess, and there are still pieces of your soul still mending, but I want to be a part of it all. I want to be there for you, to make sense of all your parts, broken or not. I want to with you, Katara, to weather the storm, to raise this nation to the glory it used to be.”

He presses his forehead against hers. “What do you say, Katara?” He asks. “You accepted me, for everything I am, mess and all. Will you let me do the same?”

She breathes in, tastes the sweetness of the air on her tongue, the pounding beat of his promise surging through his veins. She feels the darkness in her soul, the light of his, and the warmth Yue brings shine down on her. 

She meets his gaze, her answer sure on her tongue and her heart yearning for his. “I love you, Zuko,” she whispers, and kisses him softly. “I  _ choose  _ you.”

He smiles, a breathtaking grin that steals Katara’s heart and makes her spirits soar. He kisses her, a quick press of lips that makes her toes curl, and then he’s pulling away, taking the opal crown from her hands. She ducks her head, and he fastens it to her topknot. 

“There,” he says, stepping back and looking at her with love and adoration. “Lady Katara, a warrior and a healer, Waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe, Lady of the Moon.”

~0~

"Wow," Azula says, eyeing Zuko's Firelady crown critically. She turns it over in her hands, and the sunlight gleams off the curve of the moon, the rainbow reflecting off onto her face. Katara purses her lips, hands in her lap, and studies the Fire Princess.

"Well?" She asks, leaning forward. 

Azula snorts and hands the crown back to her. "It's beautiful," the fire princess says. “A crown fit for a Firelady.”

Katara fondles the crown, watching the colors lap like the tides. “I’m scared,” she confesses, and looks up to meet Azula’s calculating gaze. “I want to be good for this nation. I can’t let it down.”

Azula scoffs. “Waterbender,” she says. “You and I both know you’re too goody-goody to let this nation down. Plus, you’re in love with my idiot of a brother, so I know you’ll never let him down. The two of you are so good for each other it’s nauseating.”

Katara blinks. “I just want to be a perfect Firelady,” she whispers.

“Stop thinking like that,” Azula snaps. “You can’t be a perfect Firelady. You’re a girl from the Water Tribes. You’ll never be a perfect Firelady, that would require you to be something you’re not. But you can be something better.”

Katara frowns. “You can be you,” Azula advises. Katara's heart catches in her throat. Azula grins. "You heard me, waterbender. " You could never be a traditional Firelady. Zuko wouldn't have chosen you if he wanted that. He chose you because he knows you can change the Fire Nation. I know this because you'll do whatever it takes."

Katara is quiet, and Azula gets to her feet. "I know you and I can never really be friends," the princess says. "But that doesn't mean I don't see reason. You're the best hope for the Fire Nation. You'll make a wonderful, unconventional,  _ powerful _ Firelady. Zuko needs that. And you need him."

Azula turns her gaze into Katara, walking to the door. "And if you ever forget that, I'll make sure to remind you of all my brother put himself through for your sake."

Katara gets to her feet, making her way to the door. " I won't," she promises. "I could never do that to him."

Azula nods, and Katara exits her suite. "Good," the princess says. "Because I know my brother, and I know he'd never do that to you."

Katara makes her way down the hall, Firelady crown in hand, and finds Zuko waiting for her in the courtyard. The sun is shining, and the fresh scent of the sea permeates Katara's senses, flooding her soul with life and joy. She feels the push and pull of the tides, the tugging of Zuko's blood as his heart flutters at the sight of her. He reaches out, taking her hand, and she loses herself in the joy of his gaze.

He bends down, kissing her softly. "How'd it go?" He breathes, and she smiles.

"Good, I think."

His hand caresses her hair. "And how are you?"

_ Are you ok? _

She thinks about it for a moment. She can feel the darkness, swirling around deep in her soul, but it no longer rises to the occasion, does try to consume her in blood and ghosts. It lies there, trembling under the surface of her soul, held down by her love for the boy with the golden eyes, weak and powerless. She smiles.

"Good," she whispers. She looks up into his molten gaze, feels his warm hands clasp hers, holding the Firelady crown tight. He leans in, pressing their foreheads together, and she inhales the smell of spice and fire on his breath.

"Do you regret it?" Zuko asks, and she knows he's not asking about her visit. She looks back on the past few years, thinks about the perils of war and the aftermath it took on her. She thinks about Aang, the free spirited child who brings a smile to her face, her handsome brother who infuriates and excites her. Of Suki, with a spirit of joy and beauty but a heart of steel, and Toph, her soul sister who's very heart beats to the rhythm of the earth. She thinks about Kai and Azula, settling her soul while she heals theirs, and of Zuko, whose hand has never wavered at her side, who woke a dragon and quieted a war-torn Nation. Zuko, who lives in her heart and soul, who has set alight all the dark parts within her spirit and shown her the brightness she can give. Zuko, a boy of fire, who somehow put together all her broken pieces with a gentle touch and a kind hand, who has never once let her down.

She leans forward, and kisses him. His hands tighten in hers, and she smiles against his lips, her soul at peace and her heart fluttering with joy.

"Never." 

His eyes flicker to her throat, to where the scar lays bare across her skin. "And the nightmares?"

She smiles. "Better now that I'm with you."

His eyes soften, and he touches the pendant at her throat. "I'll always be with you."

"Promise?"

"Promise. We're in this together. Always."

And that's enough for her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it! Thank you so much to everyone who joined me on this journey. I spent many weeks slaving over this story, and all your comments really help motivate me to keep going. I am so grateful for all the love everyone!
> 
> Update: I completely forgot! Credits for the "Lady of the Moon" idea goes to @zutara-was-robbed, who came up with this idea and 10000% support, and from @Kakarinlin, who's artwork on tumblr helped inspire this as well!
> 
> This is NOT the end of this. While this fic is now over, this is only the first part of the "Seasons" Universe. I plan on writing a Zuko POV companion fic that focuses on some specific scenes, as well a Katara/Azula piece and a few more following this story. Please stay tuned!
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and this fic, as a whole. This was one of my fav chapters to write, so let me know what you thought.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for sticking with me through this ride. Love you all!


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